Diary of a Cougar: 13> Michael’s boat
written by:
Chris-t6290

For those of you who missed the 11th part, here's a much needed recap: when I went off in a huff, I spilt some of my drink on Michael. In his office, where he eventually seduced and fucked me, I suggested he change his trousers for a cream coloured pair, only for Michael, who was wearing a navy blazer to remark: ‘Then I would've looked like I belong on a boat.'

It was a Tuesday morning, and a couple of weeks after the office get together when the phone rang. Picking it up, I enquired who it was.

"Michael, to what do I owe this honour," I replied, not for one second realising why. If there were ever an accident at work, one that involved my husband, I would be the person they would call.

"It's not Ray," I suddenly realised, almost alarmingly.

"No, although I did have to get your number from personnel," he confessed.

"What are your plans for the rest of the morning," he cheerily enquired.

"I don't have any, why?" I exclaimed, since he'd gone to the trouble of acquiring my number.

"Well, you know that remark about my cream slacks and a boat."

"Yes."

"Well, I don't own one as such, but I have hired one. So, what do you say, fancy getting nautical," he suggested glibly.

Immediately dispelling any thoughts that this mature man was taking me for granted, I readily agreed to his rather ‘nautical' offer, and made a note of where to meet him before thanking Michael and hanging up the phone.

Just then, and as I made my way upstairs to quickly get changed, I realised I'd have to be a bit more conservative with my attire. ‘Okay, so we'll no doubt end up having sex,' I reasoned, as what to wear, and settled on a short light-blue skirt and the net top over my blue two-piece bikini, along with a pair of fawn coloured cork heeled slip-ons.

‘Yes, perfect,' I remarked, as I checked my ensemble in the mirror and then applied just a hint of make up. Having done so, I then filled up the small bottle of oil I keep in my bag, went downstairs, locked the front door, climbed into my Capri and then drove of for my rendezvous with Michael.

As I cruised along at a steady 30mph, I wondered what type of vessel it was. A yacht, possibly, or a boat of some description, either way, Michael had gone to the expense of hiring it for the morning or duration, and invited me to share it with him. ‘I doubt Penny would get this sort of thing lavished on her by Ray,' I beamed to myself, as I neared the location that Michael had given me.

To my right, there were numerous vessels, which, since they were listless, were moored. And as I got out of my Capri, I noticed that one or two stripped down people were laid sunbathing on the top section of some.

‘Pier 15,' I recalled, from Michael's note to me, as I walked down a slope and then along a signposted walkway, eventually locating a moderate sized launch. ‘Perfect,' I thought, and with little crew needed to sail it.

"Ahoy," I jokingly called out, from the stern end, as I raised my sunglasses.

"You made it, then, Rachel," rejoined Michael from inside. And having soon made his appearance - dressed as I had suggested, no less- he then helped me aboard.

At a guess, the launch/boat was about 25 to 30 feet long; I'm not that good with the size of such long objects. With a man's cock on the other hand, I have no trouble; Michael's being quite ample.

In addition to the roof on the steering cabin, there was a clear area towards the port for sunbathing, although I doubt there would be much of that. Below the deck, or whatever the upper part is, there was a lounge area, a WC and at a guess, a cabin or two with a bed inside. I've had sex in many places in my life, but never a boat. ‘I just hope I don't get sea sick from it,' I mussed, as Michael gave the word for them to pull away.

"What's the size...how many crew does she have, Michael," I enquired, doing my best to make small talk as I hid my nerves, while Michael poured two glasses of ‘Moet & Chardon' into a pair of goblets and then handed one to me. ‘I could hardly feel he was taking me for granted now,' I remarked to myself, as I accepted the champagne and took a sip.

"A launch of this size needs two, Rachel. The second, an engineer, in case there's a problem with the propeller or engine. In addition, I've brought along George, a dependable cook. Ah, here he is with the canapés. Thank you, George," Michael addressed his help, and directed him towards me first.

It was almost like the first time I met him. I was, as you'll recall, drinking champagne, which was served by two black waiters; George being of Negro ethnicity, also.

Taking one of the disposable card plates from the salver, I then placed three of the hors-d'oeuvres on it and thanked George. Turning to Michael, George then offered him the remainder; my host taking an equal amount, before thanking him, also.

"Yes, he's also preparing either a chicken or lobster salad for later, whichever takes your fancy, Rachel," Michael informed me. Not particularly being one for shell-fish, I settled for the chicken.

"Okay, then, I'll take the lobster. It'll be a waste otherwise," Michael jollied, before excusing George.

Once more alone, Michael invited me to sit on the long seat at the right side of the boat; I never could get the name of each side right.

"Thank-you, again, for accepting my offer," Michael began. "Rachel, there's something I need to ask you," he stated sincerely.

"Okay," I rejoined, my voice full of intrigue at what it could possibly be.

Reaching into his inside breast pocket, Michael took out a folded brown bag. Then, and as he handed the unfolded item to me, he said: "While you are my guest, I wonder if you would do me the honour of wearing what's inside, Rachel."

Far from feeling concerned as to what it was, I nodded my agreement and opened the bag. Looking inside, I noticed it was a yellow coloured bikini bottom - no top - that was cut to be worn high up on the waist, and would cover more than the one I was presently wearing; the lower part that is.

"Thank-you," I said.

"There's a cabin you can get changed in over to the port," Michael informed me. Then, noticing my quizzical look, he indicated the left side, and that the right was starboard.

After again thanking Michael, I gave him a peck on his ‘starboard' cheek, and then headed off to the ‘port' side cabin to quickly get changed.

Yes, I know what some of you are no doubt thinking. Considering what had gone before, why didn't I get changed in front of Michael? Although he had seen me naked, that was a prelude to him fucking me with his thick hard cock, something there'd be plenty of time for after lunch.

Stepping inside (I'll describe it for you later), I removed my conservative clothing and then pulled on the yellow bikini bottom that Michael had made me a present of. ‘I dare say a spot of sunbathing before lunch,' I mused, admiring at how well the garment fitted me in the long wardrobe mirror, before returning to my host - my clit on throb alert, I noticed, as I walked.

"Wonderfully ravishing," exclaimed Michael, as he extended my half empty glass towards me.

For those of you puzzled by the half empty/half full glass phrase, I think I have the solution. If it's only filled half way, then it's half full; if it's drunk to half way down then it's half empty. Sexy and intelligent with it, that's me.

"I'm somewhat dressed for it, so, I think I'll take in some sun before lunch. Would you care to join me, Michael," I said, as I took the sun protection oil, it being a bigger bottle to that of the lubrication one, from my bag, along with my sunglasses.

"No, I'm quite alright as I am. I'll gladly apply the oil for you, though," he smiled; something inside me hoping that he would.

Collecting a towel for me to lie on, the decking no doubt being quite hot under the San Diego sun, we made our way up top.

Choosing a spot behind the steering cabin, I laid the towel down and spread out on top of it. Then, and for the first time since Michael and I had a wild evening of sex, something suddenly dawned on me. Far from my being the cougar and Michael a younger man, the role was reversed. Yes, he was in his forties, I guessed, but boy was he experienced. And as my host now applied the oil over my naked back, I had to bite my lip at his exquisite touch, even more so, when he smoothed the oil over my exposed ass cheeks, the same ones that, only a short while ago, were parted to receive his wonderfully probing and penetrating thick cock.

Deciding not to turn over, as that would invite Michael to otherwise smooth the oil over my ample breasts, I gladly thanked him - my voice indicating I was content to lay on my front. Having nodded his respectful gratitude, Michael placed the bottle beside the towel and then departed, no doubt to see how George was getting on with lunch.

Dispelling all and any erotic thoughts as I lay beneath the California sun on a becalm launch, I played some tunes in my head to pass the time; Michael coming to get me some while later for lunch, which again was served below and on a fold out table.

Both meals were well presented, I noticed, and having us both thanked George, he served a glass of white wine to each of us, one that complemented the meal exquisitely, I concurred with Michael, who was most certainly building up his brownie points, with me, for later.

With my most enjoyable meal soon finished - Michael just about managing to get the better of his lobster; and for which I could offer no help - I took up my glass in readiness to drink the small remains.

"By the way, Rachel, that was some exhibition you put on in the kitchen," Michael averred, his revelation causing me to splutter as I took a final sip.

"What...!" I rejoined, having found my voice.

"There are CCTV cameras throughout the building," he informed me.

"Your office, also," I remarked, and with a degree of alarm, as I wiped myself with the serviette that Michael handed to me.

"No, there we were safe from any prying eyes," he told me.

"And the tape, or is it a disc they use now," I asked, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

"Luckily, and since the building was otherwise occupied, there was little need for monitoring. All the same...!" he again hinted, at my rather debauched performance after Michael and I had fucked.

"I recall telling you that night we...the sort of woman I am," I rejoined, just as George returned to clear the plates.

"Yes, yes you did, Rachel," Michael said, his voice not quite smug, but nonetheless.

Beckoning George over, I thought little of it as my mind took in what Michael had just told me; besides which, I had been all but naked in both men's presence since getting changed.

"I'd like you to fuck George, Rachel. He's black and well hung," Michael, taking me by more than surprise, said.

"It's okay, I'm not going to watch," my host told me, as he moved to stand up and leave.

Just then, out in the sea and far from the dock, I felt trapped; only to remind myself why I had accepted Michael's offer, which was to once more feel his thick cock up inside me; ‘his' being the operative word.

"Here, or the cabin," I said, rather brazenly.

When it comes to sex, I'm not one for shying away from a good fucking, although, and with the black waiters, I was screwed ass and cunt.

"Here. I'll be waiting in the cabin for you afterwards, Rachel. In the meantime, enjoy, and I mean that most sincerely," Michael pronounced, and then left me for the solitude of the vessel's only cabin.

"Well, George, I'm almost undressed, as you can see. What say I have a look at your well hung cock, as Michael alluded," I intoned, as I moved my seat back and then stood up - my nerves as good as dispelled, with Michael now absent.

"So, you like black dick, then," exclaimed my host's cook, as I started to genuflect in front of him on the fibre carpet. Now knelt before George, I reached up, and soon had his black slacks undone; my mind in no hurry to reveal what he had to offer as I slowly slid them down his legs and removed first his casual shoes and then his trousers.

When I then raised my head to draw down George's pants, my hair and then head knocked against his exposed cock.

"Suck it, slut," he said, his free hand moving to my hair while he directed his long black stump towards my gasping mouth.

"Glurg," I vociferated, as he motioned my lips back and forth on his warm cock meat while at the same time, swinging his hips at me.

"Yes, that's it, suck the black cock down your white throat," he regaled, and at the ease with which it slid past my epiglottis; George holding me against his groin every so often before releasing me.

Just then, while I accepted yet another face fucking, a thought occurred to me. That night at Michael's office, which he alluded to during lunch, Michael was the calm before the storm, so to speak, while George was very much the storm. Realising that, I raised my inactively hanging arms and braced my hands on his thighs; whereupon, and as I somewhat took over - bobbing my head back and forth on his firm black dick - George relaxed his hold on my head, and to that of him merely resting it there.

"Yes, that's it, lovely Rachel, suck on it, worship the blackness," he extolled my compliance.

Allowing me the latitude to slow things down, and since his grip was relaxed along with his hip movements, I moved my right hand and fanned it out at the hilt of George's sceptre, in readiness to demonstrate the type of slut I can be.

To begin with, I wormed my tongue around the black snake in my mouth as I continued to slide my lips along it. Then, having regained some semblance of control, I drew them up, so that just the turgid crown was ensconced in my warm moist sanctuary; all the while gazing into George's deep brown eyes as I licked and sucked.

"You like that, don't you, slut; like sucking on the black meat," George jollied, nonetheless.

Smiling my agreement at him, I then withdrew the crown from my mouth. Then, and just as I did, the inevitable build up of saliva drooled from my lower lip and then dripped onto my firm tits. Realising this, I moved my left hand to smear it over them while, and holding George's slick erection almost vertical, I flicked my pink tongue tip around and over his puffy black glans - the sensation bringing a contented moan from its owner. ‘Putty in my hands George may now be, but it was firm putty,' I remarked of my achievement.

"Yes, very, very compliant, slut," George commended, as I released his cockhead with a ‘pop.

"Let me see your cunt, Rachel," he now said, almost invitingly, as he helped me up.

Placing my thumbs in each side of the bikini bottoms, which Michael had encouraged me to wear, I eased them past my hips, from where they then slid down my legs.

"You like my cunt," I exclaimed, and having stepped out of the garment, made moist by my expectations, I reposed my feet marginally further astride.

"Yes, very lush and moist," exclaimed George, as he stroked his faintly stubbled chin in wonder and, from his expression, no doubt contemplated what to do next - something that took even me by surprise.

Going to the nearby table, which still had the condiments on it, George took up the bowl of coleslaw, which I had with my otherwise dry salad. In all my years, I had never had any sort of foodstuff on my body, least of all where George was aiming to put the mayonnaise based dressing; in my cunt. ‘I only hope that he eats it all from me,' I almost worried, with regards to Ray, as George directed me to lay on the long seat and with my right foot on the floor.

"Emn, just be sure you get it all out, George, my husband," I minded him, as I iterated my concerned thoughts and splayed my labia, thereby making it easier for him to get it inside my cunt.

"Hom, it's cold," I told him, my body jolting in response to the change in temperature, and the otherwise contrast of a warm tongue or cock sliding inside where George's fingers now were.

"Emn, yes, eat me, George, put your long black tongue in my hot cunt and eat me," I impelled him. This time it was my hands, both of them, on his short haired head, pulling his mouth to my hot humid sex and forcing him, almost, to tongue fuck me while he did his utmost to dine on a cocktail of coleslaw and my escaping juices.

"Emn, fuck, yes, yes, George, like that, like that, eat me, fuck me, make me cum. Oh God, fuck!" I exclaimed as my river burst forth.

As it did, my body went into uncontrolled spasm. Hands clenching the diner between my spread thighs as I bucked my hips at him, all the while, George gorging himself on my streaming cunt as he tantalised my throbbing sticky clit with an otherwise idle finger and thumb.

"Em," I sighed. "Have you got it all out," was the first thing I said. Then, having nodded yes, I drew him over me with my fingers under his cum slick chin, and told George to fuck me; that was, after all, what my host had expected.

"God, your cock's so fucking lovely," I regaled, as George, far from being ‘bullish' about it, slid his long thick sceptre along the walls of my vulva (I can't go on referring to it as my cunt, even though it is).

"Fuck me, George, really fuck—ME!" His firm inward thrust almost taking my breath away, as he once more swung his hips at me.

In response, and wanting as much of it inside me as he could fit, I drew my legs up and around his waist, soon motioning him back and forth, just as he had earlier done with my head on his black rod.

"Fuck me, fuck me, George," I impelled him, his groin slapping against main, which in turn stimulated my clit, and with it, another pleasurable climax.

"Emn, let me taste it. I want to taste myself on you," I said, and slowly unfurled my legs from his firm body.

"On your knees, Rachel, then I'm going to fuck you like the bitch on heat you are," George directed me, as he stood up, only to then offer me his helping hand.

With my fingers around the sticky hilt - it had penetrated me that far down - I held George's black mamba almost as before, and diligently licked around the head and then up and down the length of all sides of his warm cum slick shaft, before once more devouring both the head to begin with and finally the entire black specimen.

"Very good, very good," he commended me. "Now, turn around on your hands and knees," George enjoined; whereupon, I immediately obliged.

Like this, my ass was vulnerable; George being about as thick as Michael. Nevertheless, I remained calm, as calm as someone about to get wantonly fucked could be that is.

"Emn, like this, you've got a nice tight cunt, Rachel." George suggesting that he was content to happily fuck that, even though the whory slut inside me wanted more.

"Fuck me, George, grip my hips and spear your black cock into me," I appealed, my head almost bowed to the carpeted floor as he rocked back and forth.

"That's it, more, fuck me, fuck me," I responded, as George picked up the pace; my previous outpourings easing the way for his sturdy cock, which slid along my tight channel.

Pretty soon, George was once more slapping me with his groin, only this time against my buttocks, which he now had open and somewhat inviting.

"Fuck, yes, ream my cunt, George, your lovely firm fucking cock's gonna make me cum again," I exclaimed, as I felt the gathering wave of ecstasy gain momentum.

"Fu-uck!" I gasped, as his firm, forceful thrust deep into my cervix triggered its eruption; George remaining inside me until it had subsided, at which point I drew myself back from his slick cock meat.

With George holding his position, I now slowly worked my cunt lips along the firm moist length of his black sceptre, before momentarily stopping and looking back over my right shoulder.

"Emn, Michael was right, this is enjoyable, George. But you know what would make it even more enjoyable," I said teasingly, just as I moved my right hand to pull my right butt cheek further apart.

"Tell me, George," I began to say sultrily. "Has that divine cock of yours been up a woman's ass; one as tight as mine, that is," I intimated, as I eased two and then three of my fingertips into my anus to show him.

In response, he slammed his black rod into me, and then pulled back.

"Would the white slut like some black meat in her tight ass," he said, before slamming himself at me again.

"Fuck, yes! I want your black cock where my fingers are, George. Nail my ass for me," I almost beseeched, as he slowly drew back his cock; no doubt preparing to fire it in me again, while I worked my fingers in and out of my needy ‘backdoor'.

Far from George doing as I had expected, he instead withdrew his trouser snake and then nudged it against the back of my hand.

"I need some lubricant, George. My bag, please, on the table," I said, directing him to where I had it during lunch.

With George returned, I indicated the small phial of oil as apposed to the sun protection one. And as he took it out, I removed my fingers from my ass and ceremoniously sucked them in front of him.

"You slutty whore, Rachel, and I dare say you'll suck my cock afterwards," he exclaimed, before handing me the bottle.

"I take it you want me to apply it to your cock, then," I said, before turning around and kneeling in front of him.

"There you go," I said, having promptly finished.

"Here, you'll need to trickle some on my ring...my opening," I told George, and then reposed myself as before, only with my hands extended behind me to hold myself open for his black cock.

"That's it, not too much," I minded him, there was, after all, Michael to enjoy later.

Although it felt like he had been liberal with the amount of oil he had used, George used several of his fingers both to smear the residue around my puckered opening and then ease them inside; whereupon, my body jolted though more out of contemplation of presently having his thick black sceptre where his flesh covered bony fingers now were.

"Emn, your cock, George, please," I told him, as my horny body felt neglected.

Knelt once more behind me, his fingers having since been withdrawn, George poised the tumescent head of his cock at my invitingly, exposed anus and soon slid it part way in.

"Fuck me, George—hard!" I told him, and as I did I felt him lean forwards and thrust his cock all the way in.

"Yes, fuck, more. Do it, fuck me. Christ!" I called out, as he slowly withdrew himself and cleaved his black dick into my tight asshole again, and again, and again...!

"Fuck my ass, fuck my ass, fuck me in my whore ass," I impelled, as George, grasping my hips, motioned me back and forth on his big black cock, the pleasure and pressure of his wonder fuck soon making me climax.

"You enjoyed that, yes," he lauded, almost self gratifyingly, before directing me to turn over and lay on my back.

Having done so, George knelt between my bent knees, which he then grasped and raised up and over his shoulders. After that, he subsequently leant forwards, and as he did, he drew my backside up in line with his poised cock. ‘Dare I,' I thought, as I motioned my hand towards it. And as I went to envelope his blackness with my hand, George offered no objection.

"Fuck me, George," I said, as I eased his firm sticky cock into my open anal cavity; George then rocking forwards to guide it all the way inside me.

In this position he was able to draw it back and then fire it into my tight asshole with a singular precise fluid stroke.

"Fuck, yes, more, fuck me, fuck me," I continued throughout, with George's pleasured attentiveness bringing me to a final climax before he shot his warm sticky load over my slightly heaving breasts.

Afterwards, and with his sceptre still notably firm, I cushioned his cock between my boobs and drained most of the residue of George's cum over the swell of my globes. I then encompassed the sticky velvety head with my mouth, and sucked every last morsel from his black hairy balls.

"Emn, you're one hot slut, Rachel," George commended me, as he knelt almost wasted.

"You're a mighty good fuck, yourself, George," I said, before kissing his sweat beaded brow and taking up the bottle of oil.

As I made my way to the port cabin and Michael, I suddenly wanted to be wicked. George, bless him, had been more like the calm, and with Michael, I now wanted the storm. ‘Maybe that's what satisfies me the most, what with my otherwise, almost, stale marriage to cheating Ray,' I concluded, as I turned the door handle; George's cool drying spunk smeared on my vibrant tits.

Pushing the door open, I half expected to find Michael at least part undressed; his jacket anyway, however, he was just as he was when he left us to ‘fuck'.

"What can I tell you, Michael, I'm a slut, a whore for cock if you like, and long before I moved here. I've been screwed, and nailed by as many as four men at a time, even entertaining two of them up my tight ass, as I just did with George," I said, as I made my way over to where he was sat up on the bed.

"I'm telling you this, Michael, because I think you've got a soft spot for me, which won't work. Ray cheats, I cheat, and not just out of revenge. All in all it's the perfect situation," I told him.

"Now, I want you to fuck me like a whore, use me, just as other men do; just the way I like it," I said, as I told myself this would be our only rendezvous.

Taking me at my word, Michael stood up and pushed me down to the carpet. Then, without any hesitation or permitting me to do so, he had the fly of his cream slacks undone, and his thick cock out, which he pushed into my mouth.

"Suck it, slut!" insisted Michael, his demeanour not able to call me a whore, just yet, as he grasped both cheeks and fucked my mouth; every so often nudging the head into my throat, which consequently caused me to gurgle, ‘gluh,' whenever he did.

Soon dispensed with fucking my face, during which, Michael made a derisive comment about his cook's smeared cum on my tits, he pulled me up and, still on my knees, bent me over the bed and then thrust his thick cock into my already wet cunt.

"What do you want, slut," Michael again mocked - craned over me and with his cock imbedded in my vulva.

"Fuck me, fuck my cunt, ream it; just fuck the life out of me," I rejoined.

"You're just a filthy, fucking, slut, Rachel," and as he said it, Michael thrust his cock up me with determined purpose.

"Oh fuck! Yes, more, fuck me, call me a cunt, a whore, a cunt whore," I cried out, as my impending climax surged forth.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," I exclaimed, presently.

"Whore's aren't meant to cum," he said. And as quick as he withdrew himself from my sodden pussy, Michael turned me around and had me sucking his thick cock.

"Urmng, urmng," I vociferated, as I licked the shaft as tantalizingly as I could, before Michael reposed me the same.

With my face almost buried in the bed cover by Michael's commanding right hand, he grasped my hip as he swung his at me, thereby driving his long powerful erection deep into my cunt.

This time, and with the encouragement of Michael's forcefulness, I managed to climax; my pleasured outbursts muffled by the cover beneath me. I've often thought there was a time and a place to be pushed down on a bed and fucked like this, ‘God, was I right,' I realised, as my climax ripped through me.

"You've cum, you filthy whore," exclaimed Michael, his voice, whether it be play acting or not, full of contempt for me. "You need a good ass fucking, you cunt, then we'll see if you cum or not."

How real his demeanour was would now be noted, I now realised, if he used the oil or not.

"Spread your ass, Rachel, come on, slut, that's what you want," Michael urged mockingly.

As with George a short while a go, and Michael allowing me to at least turn my head to the right, I extended my hands behind me. This time I used my nails, which I dug into my firm buttocks and pulled my ass cheeks apart for him.

"Fuck my ass, Michael," I said, doing my best to look up at him through my one eye.

Moments later, and with my anus open and exposed for him, I felt the oil trickle inside. ‘Thank-you,' I said in my head, as I awaited that of his cock to now follow it, and follow, it did.

"Fuck, yes, my ass. Nail it, Michael," I encouraged him, as I motioned myself back on it, as best as I could and he would allow, my body, and more to the point my tight whore ass, wanting to consume my host's thick long fuck stick.

"Fuck me, Michael, grab my hips and fuck me, ram your thick fucking cock right up my tight fucking ass," I impelled, being as filthy and obscene with my choice of words as I had ever before been.

"You like that, like the way I fuck your tight ass," Michael all but shouted, his thrusts becoming more powerful than even I had expected, and most definitely than when he had me on his office table.

"God, yes, I like it, I like it, fuck my ass, huh, huh, huh, fuck my ass," I rejoined, doing my best to temper my anxious gasps, just as another climax welled up inside me. I can't speak for every woman, but, a fierce hard ass reaming, like the one I was now receiving, always gets me cumming.

Taking his cock from me, Michael once more fed it to my mouth. And with little encouragement, I licked and sucked it for him, tasting, as I did, a heady cocktail of cum, ass juice and the flavoured oil.

"Keep sucking it, whore, hands behind you," he enjoined; whereupon, I rested the bridge of each hand just above my ankles and then rocked back and forth on his lovely meaty prick.

"Yes, emn, come on, more, make me cum. I'm going to paint your face with it-" exclaimed Michael, stopping himself short of otherwise saying my name.

Not long after, and with one big grunt, followed by some lower ones, he took his cock from me and shot his warm creamy spunk over my face; my eyes closing out of reflex as usual. After that, and still with my lips parted, he slipped his receding manhood back into my mouth, where I lovingly cleaned it for him.

"Thank-you, Rachel," he crooned, before zipping himself up and leaving me to have a shower and get dressed.

Some while after, and with the launch heading back to port, I suddenly felt both satisfied, if only for the rest of the day, and at peace.

Until next time, whenever and wherever that may be.