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By Caesar

If you own a sailboat, especially one that is a 'live-aboard' and has room for guests, then you know how many people want to be your friend. It got so bad that I disappeared four days out of six somewhere up the coast of British Columbia with a cellular phone number only a few knew.
That is not to say I don't like friends coming over and having a bit of fun; rather, I take exception to those that couldn't be bothered to give me any of their time when I was a broke student a few years ago. Nope, savor the true friends, I've learned.
Yet I'm not here to have a bitch session about how people seem to just end up wanting to come over for an hour or a weekend. Nope, rather it's simply about an afternoon I shared with my Slave Marnie. The friend part is just how we ended upon a sandbar for an afternoon.
I'm Caesar, if you haven't yet read any of my other accounts between my Slave and me.
Well, I love the ocean - it seems to be a part of me. Always has been since I grew up in Prince Edward Island and played catch with jellyfish and used seaweed as a mattress to lay upon. So living on the ocean was how I spent my money and my free time. It was during a week-day that I planned on going back out - I'm able to work off the boat as long as my cellular can connect to the Internet. Well, David and his girlfriend had sort of dropped by and we shared a tiny supper together. I invited them along for a four-day cruise up the Strait of Georgia to discover a new inlet to anchor. The last I had to leave as I became frustrated when another sailor woke me up late one night playing the damn bagpipes.
I'm really getting to the point, so stay with me.
The first three days were great, and David and his friend were very accommodating and helped crew my ship. My Slave Marnie was subdued, at least in expressing her own sexuality. Normally she barely wore clothing about my ship. Having guests did really put a cramp on my sex life.
Now, I'm not complaining, but rather giving evidence that another way had to be found. Normally we had days to ourselves, without anyone within sight, and after only a few hours it seemed that my friends were suffocating us.
Or maybe I was just horny. If you know me, then you'd probably agree.
So, late on the fourth morning, I threw a few things into the zodiac and then guided my Slave down into it. Dave and his girlfriend waved to us goodbye, and I think they were anxious to be alone on my boat. I'm sure they sampled a bit of sexual play while we were gone.
Around the point we soon found ourselves out of sight and hopefully out of mind. Marnie leaned over and grasped the bulge in my shorts as soon was we lost sight of the hull. "Why don't you find a spot and park this dory?" The grin she gave me left little to doubt her intentions. It seemed my Slave, and very good friend, was insatiable when it comes to sex. Oh well, I'm sure you're not going to feel sorry for me, huh?
Laughing, I aimed towards a group of rocks out past the visible land.
Now, if I don't put a stop to any advances Marnie may give she would continue until her objective had been reached. We were both the same in that regard. Busy rowing, I didn't mind her familiar hand upon my covered cock. It may have been enough to convince her to continue with her objective. As often was the case, that objective was my dick. Big surprise, though that certainly is not a complaint.
I watched and silently thanked myself for such a desirable wench for a Slave. As she pulled my loose shorts to the side, freeing my already half-hard cock, and then leaned forward and engulfed my manhood into her hungry mouth.
Now, Marnie loves to suck cock. In the morning, at night, before sex or between sex - she just can't seem to be get enough of my manhood in her warm wet mouth. As you may well imagine, I greatly enjoy this aspect of our relationship. I sometimes can be a greedy bugger about my pleasure.
At that moment, it was no different. Yet I had to pilot the small craft while trying to enjoy those sucking lips. I wasn't too successful and simply dropped my work and grabbed the back of her head. Not that she would stop without a direct command from me, but rather I wanted to guide the speed of her bobbing face. I wanted to finish very quickly - the lack of an orgasm those last couple of days now forced my blood to boil quicker than normal and my Slave enjoyed every moment. If left to her own devices she could make oral love to that part of my anatomy for an hour, but I couldn't wait an hour.
I often thought that at such moments, the Slave became the Master - that her lips controlled our relationship and I would do just about anything for her to finish me at that moment. Though I've not a submissive bone in my body as I'm sure my friends would tell you if asked, it's the only time I find myself being 'controlled'.
Okay, so it took me less time to shoot my cum down the hungry throat of my Slave than it took to write these last few paragraphs explaining it. My only excuse is that lack of sex the last couple of days. At that moment, neither of us were worried, for after my initial quick release, the next would be memorable.
My senses finally returned while my Slave licked my wilted cock slowly, savoring every intimate touch. Our craft was almost upon the shore north of the cluster of rocks I had been aiming for.
Well, rather than fight the waves back out, I simply grounded the zodiac up onto the rocky beach. I doubt if my Slave even noticed that we had beached yet, and I had to lift her face by her chin to bring her attention back.
I simply winked at her and knew she understood - I greatly enjoyed that blow job, and I would be returning the favor soon enough. She smiled brightly at me. Some- times I thought words were unimportant and that I was able to convey more without them. She had been my Slave and companion long enough to get the non-verbal message I conveyed.
Lord, she was a great Slave and a beautiful woman!
We jumped out of the craft and as I secured it with the anchor she gathered the small day packs for us. "I wanted to see those rocks, so how's that for a destination?"
"Sounds great. Do you want to carry the heavy one?" She was joking - of course I would carry the heavy pack. Hell, if I didn't, do you think I'd tell you?
It was only a few hundred meters and, at the deepest, half a meter of water before we found ourselves standing on a sandbar at the foot of rocks. When I was a kid I knew of the best places to go to get clams and after a few quick looks knew this was a great spot to dig a few up.
I dropped our packs and of course my Slave's shorts and bathing suit while leaving only a oversized white shirt covering her on the shadowed side of the rocks. I asked her to gather some kelp and smiled at the face she made and then turned to go back to some ankle- deep water we had passed through to get at our small camp.
I watched my Slave often, enjoying the sight of her semi-clad body as she timidly picked out the cleanest pieces of weed. It was an amusing sight, her the city girl, one that I always enjoyed showing a life outside of the concrete and steel places.
Before long, I had dug up half a leather pail of generous-sized clams and Marnie had lost her tender attitude towards the kelp. I knew it would happen - she would discover there was nothing wrong with the sea's weed and her timidness was gone before I returned.
"What is all this seaweed for, Master?"
I dropped a small handful of dried beach wood. "To cook with - or don't you want lunch?"
"I'd rather have more of your cock!" I looked up at her bluntness. That is my Slave, my private little slut. Just the way I liked her. She grinned at my gentle and patient look. "Seaweed - yuck!"
"Steamed clams are great, lass. Now, I'm just going to set this bucket to sit for a while to clean 'em out. Make sure the tide doesn't take it out so keep half an eye on it."
"Sure. You ready for your next lesson in swimming?"
I grinned and started to pull off my clothing, and she immediately giggled and did the same with her last remaining garment. The lesson was a private joke - that I could barely tread water and loved the sea, while she's a city girl who swim with ease. Frustrating for a dominant, in an embarrassing sort of way.
I may not be able to swim but I can hold my breath and jump the waves easily. And that is essentially what I ended up doing. She practically swam laps about me and we played sort of a erotic tag which she allowed me to win. I would never have caught her in the water. The ocean was a comfortable sixteen degrees centigrade, just cold enough that my manhood was a very embarrassing size. After a stern look she at least tried to stifle the laugh that appeared when I went back to the cluster of rocks.
In all, it was a grand few hours. Afterwards, we lay on the beach mat, naked of course, in the shade, talking about some goals we had set as a couple that were coming up in the near future. I drank gatorade and I believe she drank iced tea.
It just felt like the right moment, one that poets write about, so I leaned over and gently kissed my desirable and lovely Slave. My lips welded to hers and our mouths widened while her tongue began to play by finding mine. My hands found her buttocks and I enjoyed that round smooth flesh while her hand grasped my still shrunk cock.
She pulled away. "Oh, your cock is cold."
"See, I told you, shrinkage."
"I know about shrinkage. It just feels very cold."
"Then warm it up, Slave." Ah, finally the one instruction I'm sure she had been waiting for nearly as much as I had anticipated giving it. Her mouth was indeed very warm and I allowed my reaction to echo across the water. None could hear, so why not?
That didn't last long as I pulled her face from my lap and threw her playfully upon her back. "Let's see if you're cold, lass." With as much patience as she showed, in other words none, I slid my tongue between the outer folds of her labia. It was cold and she made her own enjoyable sounds as my hot tongue, previously warmed in her mouth, began to dance between her hairy vaginal lips. It was a game; I ignored her clitoris while she tried to move her hips to get that love button beneath my tongue. Of course it didn't work. How could I let it? I was enjoying her reactions to my tongue moving rhythmically in and out of her vagina and infrequently a quick but firm lick lower down upon her anus.
She tasted salty from the sea. Damn, I enjoyed that upon a woman's skin.
I pulled my face from between her thighs. "Ask nice?"
You see, she had been requesting me to finish her off to get my tongue upon her clitoris or to drive my cock deep with her cunt. I did neither and ignored her pleas and whines. It rarely ever worked, but I think she knew I enjoyed the sound of her voice during those moments.
Yet now I want her to ask. "Please make me come, Master."
"Not good enough, Marnie."
"Please, Master" - she spread her legs very wide apart and then using one hand pulled her vaginal lips apart exposing all - "make me come." She had used just the right about of a whine and pleading.
Yet it wasn't what I wanted. "Not bad, Slave, but we are out here with no-one around I want you really hear you ask."
This time it was obvious she understood my meaning. Marnie suddenly used her talented voice and shouted out, "Make me come, Master! Make me come!"
What else could I do - I finished what I started of course.
Afterwards, though not long afterwards I had her lick her own spend from my face. I always enjoy when my Slave does that. I left her in her afterglow to light a small fire and start our late lunch.
We both trooped around that sandbar like castaways, not a stitch of clothing on us and our skin and hair salted by the sea. Marnie dug around in both packs. "Where is the butter?"
"I don't use butter. There is vinegar in the clear bottle." She made a face, but since our time together she learned to try it before passing judgment. If you've never tried vinegar with clams, or even mussels or lobster, give it a try. I'm certain you'll not regret it. It's what I used growing up on the east coast of Canada.
Well, it took awhile for the clams to open up, but we did it and the supper was very tasty. The best feed of clams I've had for years. They taste better just from the ocean and eaten upon the beach. And if you have a naked Slave to dip your clam for you, well, as you can imagine that was a slice of heaven on earth.
I guess I can tell you that I used my Slave's navel as a place to hold the vinegar. Somehow dipped clams tasted better that way.
With the familiar content look on her face, I think she rather enjoyed it also.
Not being overly full at our feast, I was starting to feel rather randy. My Slave had noticed my half-mast cock while we ate, and my gaze feasting on more than just the sea's bounty, but had said nothing about it.
I stood up and faced her with my cock merely a few meters away. "You wanna taste more of my clam, Master?" My manhood rose quickly as if knowing what it was going to end up doing.
"I'm full, thanks." She laughed at that lame joke. "On your knees, Slave!" I spoke rather loudly and was feeling nature's power with my veins.
I wasn't in the mood for a slow gentle love session, but rather I wanted to fuck my Slave. She moved quickly, and I wondered if she was feeling much the same as I was and she aimed her bottom up towards me. One of the greatest assets I thought my Slave possessed was sexual and emotional empathy towards my desires. When I wanted a hard fuck, she often mirrored this desire. It made for very exciting moments.
Using a gentle finger I discovered she was wet, but not overly so. I knelt behind her spread knees and slapped her raised ass with my stiff cock. She laughed and wig- gled her ass towards me. "Touch yourself, Slave, get that pussy of yours ready for me!"
I was stroking myself and infrequently slapping her ass with my cock while I intently watched her hand move between her legs. It's always an erotic sight that I never tired of, watching my Slave pleasure herself. She knew this, and her touches were just as much for me as they were for her own pleasure. Marnie had a way of showing me when her body was ready to receive mine, and often it involved showing me the excitement of her sex. This time was no different and she pulled apart the lips of her sex with two fingers then slid the middle one into herself. I watched her finger-fuck her own cunt, knowing that she would only do that if she were ready for me.
I simply slapped her busy hand with my cock and she withdrew her fingers. It moved easily between her womanly folds as her sex engulfed my cock hungrily. We both sighed out loud with pleasure. If you've never fucked on or in the ocean you wouldn't understand. And if you had the luck to be alone with your mate and nature while having sex you may understand when I say it was simply great! I held upon her hips and began to pound my cock in and out of her body. She had lowered herself until her shoulders lay upon the ground and I could feel both her hands between our legs. One was playing with my swinging balls, and the other, I'm certain, was manipulating her over- sensitive clitoris.
It had been far too long since I had sunk myself within this woman's body. She was very responsive and bucked and thrashed her person below me. It simply heated my blood more and I dropped viciously in and out of her. We rutted with nature as a witness and for myself it added to the excitement.
I'm not sure how long I lasted, but I was a bull and could only think of shoving that hard pole between my legs into the woman who willingly submits to me. It may have been her orgasm that woke my senses enough that I saw her sweaty body thrash below me and I wanted more, something different. Pulling from her cunt I rolled her over onto her back and simply aimed my cock again at that pleasurable hole. It was welcomed with a groan of pleasure and hands clawing at my back and head.
I wasn't finished and was prepared to fuck for hours if that was what it took.
Since it's long after and I'm recalling the moments as I type, you and I know I could lie to you. That I could tell you my cock was twelve inches long and I fucked my Slave for almost two hours. It would be a blatant lie.
I will admit I had no concept of time and that my cock is sufficient for my own use and obviously for my Slave's.
When I did finish, and lordy did I finish, I filled my Slave's clutch with a generous amount of my man cream. She was practically hanging below me, her ankles crossed around my hips and her hands hugging her torso up against mine. Marnie was a tiny woman and moving her hips up to meet my own, and when I began to grunt like the passionate animal I am, she followed suit only a few seconds behind me.
So to be a gentleman, I pushed myself as far into her I could go and flooded her depths. My own groans echoed above her high-pitched squeals.
Well, if you're here only to read about the sex, you can stop reading now. You see, we both lay intertwined for maybe an hour until the sun came about the rocks and began to bake us. I was sweaty and found the strength to carry my Slave over my shoulder out into the water. The water cooled and catered to our exhaustion.
The day wasn't over, but our privacy was nearly at an end. We found that our return passage had dropped at least another meter beneath the water as the tide came in. Rookie mistake - that happens infrequently, thank goodness. We both swam back to the north shore, me taking frequent rest breaks, and I brought the zodiac out to the rocks to collect our day packs.
Well, that's about it.
Our day on the sandbar. Filled with sexual play and not-so-sexual play. I promised myself that we would have to do this more often. Seeing how my tired Slave practically glowed from our afternoon's fun, I knew that was a promise I would definitely keep.