Suck me softly 2 - Cast Off

Katie's ponytail bounced as she hurried up the stairs from the crew galley, a tray laden with chilled shellfish balanced on her shoulder. The tray was covered in oyster half shells circling a display of shrimp cocktails, she set them on the buffet next to the layout of tuna and squid sashimi. “Gosh they weren't kidding, these shrimp are huge. What were they feeding them? Kind of a pain to find room on the trays!” she said to Heather. 

Captain Heather was helping her set up the snacks before their guests arrived, Heather turned as Katie approached, a smile playing on her lips. "Everything looks perfect, Katie. They're going to love it." hearing a noise she looked up, her gaze fixed on the expanse of the marina dock. Luxury yachts, gleaming white under the Caribbean sun, bobbed gently in their slips.

“Well, the girls should be here any minute, time to get in position,” Heather said with a wink. She headed up the stairs in the corner of the spacious salon. A seasoned navigator with years of experience etched into her sun-kissed skin, Heather stood tall and proud as she reached the flybridge helm. She was a capable captain but needed a moment to ‘get into character’ for their guests. She took a quick sip of champagne, followed by a deep breath in, and exhaled slowly while shaking out her arms. A brief survey of the charted course on screen. And lastly she checked the weather report for the evening's sail.

The deck of their catamaran was an oasis of understated elegance. Teak planks, warm and smooth underfoot, stretched from stern to bow. A plush, oversized sunpad, upholstered in marine-grade ivory leather dominated the front, inviting languid afternoons of sunbathing. Woven rattan loungers, scattered around a low glass table, offered a shaded spot for conversation and cocktails.

The air hummed with the quiet thrum of the ship's generators, a subtle counterpoint to the melodic clinking of the halyard against mast. At the stern, a wide, inviting swim platform descended to the turquoise water, promising effortless access to the sea's waves. 

As the sun slowly began its descent, the shadows began to stretch across the dock, a sudden shriek broke the gentle scene as the three women arrived. 

“OmG! Monica, look how big the boat is! I've never been on a catamaran before!" Cassie squealed, her eyes wide as she took in the yacht, phone in hand she snapped a selfie with the ship. She bounced on the balls of her feet, practically vibrating with excitement.

Monica grinned, equally enthusiastic. "I know! It's going to be the perfect trip, Cassie." She turned to the last of their trio, who was just catching up. "You coming, Stacy?"

"I'm coming! Give a fat girl a break!" Stacy called out, a playful exasperation in her voice. She puffed slightly as she reached them, a self-deprecating joke hanging in the air.

As they stepped onto the gleaming deck, a woman with a warm smile greeted them. “Good evening, ladies! I’m Katie, your stewardess for this trip. Just leave your bags here, and I'll take them down to your staterooms. In the meantime, please help yourselves to the snacks. We have a buffet set up for you in the salon.” She gestured towards the interior with a welcoming wave.

Monica and Cassie, barely able to contain their energy, practically skipped towards the salon. Stacy lingered for a moment, taking in the sheer size of the vessel. “Hey um, Katie right? Where are the bathrooms?”

“They’re below deck. And since it’s just the three of you, you each get your own cabin, each with its own head,” Katie replied.

Stacy's brow furrowed in confusion.

Katie chuckled softly. “Ah, sorry. ‘Head’ means bathroom. Here, let me show you to your cabin.” She gestured for Stacy to follow. "We'll be right back up," Katie added, directing her words towards Monica and Cassie. "Champagne's on ice at the buffet."

Stacy followed Katie down a set of polished wooden stairs and around a short bend to her cabin. To her surprise, the room was quite spacious, far more so than she’d expected when she learned they were staying on the ship. Yet It was cozy and well-appointed, a welcome change from cramped hotel rooms she'd become used to.

Katie placed Stacy’s suitcase into a built-in closet. “While I’ve got you down here, let me show you where the life jackets are stored. They’re in this same spot in each cabin.” pointing to the orange square shapes tucked into the very top of the closet.

“Thank you, good to know. I’ll be up in just a minute,” Stacy said, watching Katie nod and head back up the stairs.

Left alone, Stacy explored her temporary haven. She spotted another door, this one labeled 'Head'. Inside was a small but functional bathroom. Catching her reflection in the mirror, Stacy paused. She might joke about being "fat," but she wasn't obese. She was a woman with curves, generously proportioned, a figure that was still undeniably striking. A confident smile played on her lips. This was already starting out to be a fun trip. Stacy was thankful that Cassie invited her to come.

Up on deck the salon buzzed with the barely contained energy of the other two girls. Cassie, practically vibrating with excitement, hovered over a platter. "Shrimp cocktails! My weakness," she declared, piling her plate high with the glistening delicacies.

Monica surveyed the spread with a discerning eye. "You can have them all. I'm after these oysters. They look impossibly fresh." She plucked one from its icy bed, squeezed a generous spritz of lemon juice over its pearly surface, and with a practiced tilt of her head, slurped it down. Her eyes widened, a low moan escaping her lips. "Mmmmmhm! Divine!" She sighed dramatically. "Too bad it's just us. A few of these and I'd be seducing every deckhand onboard."

Cassie's cheeks flushed pink. "Is that actually true? That oysters are… aphro… afro… that they can, you know, make you…?" She stumbled over the word, suddenly self-conscious.

Monica chuckled, expertly extracting another oyster. "Horny?? ….. Probably just as much as tequila does to you!" she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"That was one time!" Cassie retorted, a playful defensiveness coloring her tone. She swirled the champagne in her glass. "I was drunk… AND he was incredibly hot."

Monica snorted her champagne a bit at the joke. Hearing her friend's laughter Stacy emerged from below deck, her face brightening as she took in the scene. "Did you start without me?" she lamented playfully. "The audacity!"

“THere you are! Come grab some champagne Stacy!” Cassie replied.

"This is great, Cassie.” Stacy said, waving her hands towards the ship and food.”Thanks for handling all of… this." 

"Oh, it's nothing! Besides," Cassie said, raising her champagne flute in a toast, "us girls have to escape sometimes, right?"

"Right!" Stacy and Monica chorused in unison, their laughter bubbling up and filling the salon.

Stacy, having skipped lunch in her rush to get ready, was instantly drawn to the overflowing platters. Her gaze landed on a cluster of massive crab claws. "Awesome, not just finger foods!" she exclaimed, settling in beside her friends and loading her plate. She cracked a claw and savored the sweet, succulent meat.

The initial tension of their busy lives seemed to melt away with each bite and sip. The first hour of their escape vanished in a flurry of laughter, shared secrets with inside jokes, and the clinking of glasses.

Up on the flybridge, Captain Heather completed her final checks, her voice clear and professional over the intercom. "Alright girls, are you ready to cast off?" she called down the stairwell, a hint of amusement lacing her tone.

A resounding "Yes! Let's go!" echoed from below, a wave of enthusiasm washing over the deck.

Heather spoke into the crew radio, her instructions precise and efficient. "Katie, untie us from the dock. And we'll push off."

"Copy that," Katie responded instantly. She deftly untied the heavy lines securing the catamaran to the dock cleats and hopped back on board just as Heather began to ease the vessel out of its slip.

Below the three friends, drinks in hand, made their way up to the flybridge. Eager to witness the beginning of their escape unfold. As the catamaran gilded gracefully out of the harbor, the setting sun painting the sky in lighter hues of orange and pink, they raised their glasses once more

Katie secured the side runners. Stepping back into the salon, the remnants of the snack buffet beckoned. A peculiar sight met her eyes. Stacy's plate was littered with crab shells, Cassie's with a graveyard of shrimp tails, and Monica's overflowed with oyster shells. It seemed each had chosen a single snack, neglecting the rest. The untouched sashimi platter sat innocently amidst the carnage. Surprisingly they still looked just as fresh as when she set them out. "Hmmm that's odd…. Well waste not, want not," Katie murmured, popping a few slices of tuna sashimi into her mouth as she cleared the table.

The hum of anticipation vibrated through the air as Heather's voice cut through the wind on the flybridge. "Going to be a beautiful night, girls! We'll knock out most of the journey tonight, aiming to reach the Bahamas around 3 or 4 AM. And then tomorrow Halyer Cay awaits with some fun in the sun!"

Katie emerged from the galley, balancing a tray laden with fresh drinks and the last of the snacks. "Another round, ladies?" she asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Her hunch proved correct. The women gravitated towards their chosen delicacies with laser focus, Stacy reaching for more crab, Cassie for shrimp, and Monica for oysters.

The catamaran thrummed with the steady drone of its twin diesel engines, slicing through the narrow canal. Palatial homes lined the waterway, their manicured lawns illuminated by soft, golden light. Smaller boats and a bustling ferry criss crossed their path, heading towards a distant jetty.

As the sun began its final descent, painting the sky in deep shades of red, orange and purple. Heather announced, "Once we're in open water, we'll let the sail do the work. It'll be dark soon."

"Oooo, are we going to be pirates!" Cassie giggled, already feeling the effects of the afternoon's indulgence. "ARRRrr - hickup!"

Laughter erupted, bouncing off the polished surfaces of the cabin. "Cassie, are you drunk already?" Monica teased, her eyes twinkling.

"No!... not drunk, yet. Just tipsy," Cassie protested, her words slightly slurred.

Monica, seizing the opportunity, draped an arm around Cassie's shoulder. "Get yer booty o'er here," she said, adopting a comically exaggerated pirate accent. Cassie flopped down beside her. "That's a good wench," Monica purred, deepening her voice.

"Okay, watch the lines, ladies," Heather instructed, her tone serious. "As I wrap the halyard around the winch."

Stacy's brow furrowed in confusion. "Lines?" she asked.

"The ropes, landlubber!," Monica interjected, still in character. "There arrrr no ropes on a boat!" She punctuated the sentence with a theatrical flourish.

With a concerted pull, the main sail unfurled, the line tightening around the winch. A crisp whoosh filled the air as it caught the wind, the catamaran heeling gently to starboard. Heather cut the engines, and the sudden silence was profound. The gentle breeze whispered through the rigging, and the waves lapped softly against the hull. The absence of engine noise amplified the sensation of speed. The girls instinctively hushed, reluctant to break the spell.

Before long the conservation built back up. The wind chilled the girls slightly, Stacy and Monica ventured below deck for some shorts to wear over their swimsuits. All in all The girls were really enjoying themselves. A few hours underway Heather found herself wanting a snack. She grabbed her crew radio."Katie, anything left in the galley?" Her voice crackled through the speaker.

A moment of static, then Katie's cheerful response, "Just some sashimi, Captain. Want some?"

"Yeah, I’ll be right down," Heather replied with a relieved sigh. She adjusted the heading, engaged the auto-pilot, and turned to her companions. "Be right back, girls."

She took a moment to observe them. Stacy, cheeks rosy, was animatedly recounting a story, her gestures broad and exaggerated. Cassie was giggling uncontrollably at something Monica had said, her eyes sparkling with mischief snapping photos and little videos on her phone. Monica herself leaned back against the cushions, a languid smile gracing her face. They were definitely feeling the effects of the day. Sun-kissed, carefree, and perhaps just a little tipsy. Cassie, in particular, seemed to be teetering on the edge of outright inebriation.

A flicker of unease crossed Heather’s mind. "Don't fall overboard," she quipped, the words a joke laced with a hint of genuine concern. She descended the steps to the salon, the cool air a welcome contrast to the heat above.

She found Katie perched on a stool, delicately picking at a plate of tuna sashimi with a small glass of wine. "They didn't touch the sushi?" Heather asked, surprised.

Katie popped another piece into her mouth, her eyes widening in appreciation. "Mmm, these are so good though! RJ really saved us with this new distributor." She gestured to the gleaming slices of fish. "You want to try the calamari sushi? I haven't tried any yet."

Heather nodded. "Yeah? A new supplier?" She reached for a piece of the calamari sushi, savoring the fresh, clean taste. “Mmmm well these certainly taste great.”

“Right?!” Katie said as she wiped her mouth and prepared to head back to the deck “Kind of a weird place though”, the sound of footsteps echoed from the stairway. The three girls, slightly unsteady on their feet, appeared in the salon doorway.

"How are you doing? Need anything, ladies?" Katie asked, her voice laced with genuine concern.

"Sea legs, where are you when I need you?" Stacy groaned, clutching her stomach.

Cassie giggled, her words slightly slurred. "Too many shwimps," she mumbled, hiccuping softly.

Monica just rolled her eyes. "You're just drunk, Cassie. And I think we're all just a bit tired. Let's all get to bed."

The suggestion was met with a chorus of weary agreement. They stumbled towards their cabins, the gentle rocking of the boat suddenly amplified below deck, turning the simple act of walking into a precarious balancing act.

Stacy practically collapsed onto her bunk, her head swimming. She barely managed to kick off her shorts and sandals before succumbing to the dizzying embrace of sleep. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she curled into a fetal position, praying for the queasiness to subside.

Cassie, her inhibitions dissolved by alcohol, stared at her reflection in the small mirror. She was a petite woman, almost fragile, and acutely aware of being the smallest of the group. Cassie, half-asleep, mumbled, "Ooh, shwimpies… burrrp! 'Scuse me.” she mumbled to her reflection, punctuating the sentence with a loud, involuntary belch. Too exhausted and disoriented to bother with pajamas, she simply untied her bikini top and crawled under the covers, the room spinning around her.

Monica, despite feeling the least intoxicated of the three, was undeniably flushed and restless. The air in the cabin felt thick and heavy, clinging to her skin. She longed for a cool breeze, a strong drink, and… company. Preferably in the form of one of the dock boys. Or, she mused with a mischievous grin, even Cassie would do, if she weren't currently lost in a drunken stupor. Even that stewardess... The thought ignited a spark of unexpected desire within her. With a sudden, impulsive movement, she tugged off her shorts. Through the thin fabric of her panties, she could feel a distinct swelling in her mound. "Geeze, why am I so worked up? Those oysters must really have done some work on me," she whispered to herself, a smile spreading across her face. The image of a tanned, muscular cabana boy waiting for her on the island filled her mind as she slipped beneath the sheets, a wave of anticipation washing over her.

Meanwhile, in the salon, Katie diligently cleaned up the remnants of the evening feast. She stacked plates, wiped down counters, and stowed away what little leftover food was left. But with each step, she felt a growing sense of fatigue. Her movements became clumsy, her coordination faltering. "Why am I so tired?" she wondered, her brow furrowed in confusion. She called out to Heather, her voice tired, "Heather, I got everything put up. Are you good?"

Even Heather, back at the helm, felt a weariness creeping in, a heavy weight that seemed to settle in her bones. Fortunately, they were only three hours away from their destination: a secluded cay with pristine beaches and crystal-clear waters. “Yeah I’m doing good. I’ll wake you up if I need help setting the anchor tonight.” She replied and then focused on the task at hand. Through the night she adjusted the course, monitored the instruments, and silently counted down the minutes until she could lower the mainsail, drop anchor and succumb to the alluring promise of sleep.