A gentle rocking roused Charlotte from her deep sleep. She’d slept well last night; then again, anyone can sleep well after they have a bottle of red wine all on their own. It took a while for her to gather her bearings with the morning light pouring down onto her bed from above her. She was reluctant to open her eyes — still shaken by where she felt she was and where she actually was.
The rocking is what threw her off.
After a bit of an internal struggle, she opened her eyes. Slowly, avoiding the piercing pain in her head that was inevitable combining a bottle of red wine and early morning sun, she awoke, inhaled and exhaled deeply. The rich scent of pine, water and wilderness filled her lungs.
“The boat,” she thought bitterly as she rolled over onto her side. Of all the places she could have been that morning, she was on the boat. The deathtrap. The prize award from her divorce.
She’d never exactly wanted the boat. Her idiot of an ex-husband, Greg, had disappeared early in the morning on a Saturday in March, only two months after they had gotten married, only to return after dark with the papers for a brand new, 38′ sailboat. The money that she had been hoping they’d use for a down payment on a house had just squandered away on a sailboat. She didn’t even know if he knew how to sail and her knowledge of the “sea” was limited to a day and weekend trips on an inland lake that she’d taken in her teenage years.
He had visions of grandeur and adventure for the two of them. They would abandon their rented condo in the city and sail to the ocean after spending the summer in the Great Lakes. They would make their way to the East Coast and cruise their way down the Caribbean and spend the winter island hopping in the warm, crystal blue waters.
How either of them would pay for the trip down there was still to be determined. He had a good, well-paying job — as one would, having just purchased a sailboat — but he wasn’t one of the “old-timers”. He was the youngest partner at the firm, by at least ten years, and had only very recently gotten the promotion. He certainly could not simply abandon his job and his work for six months on a boat! And Charlotte was in no position to leave her job as a teacher at a small Montessori school in the suburbs.
She was young — very young — a recent graduate, having only just obtained her Masters degree, at the tender age of 24. She’d met Greg, fallen stupidly in love, and after only two months of dating one another they were engaged. Four months of engagement and they were married. Three months of marriage they were separated and by four months, they were divorced.
Charlotte hated being a woman already divorced by the time she had turned 25. When she had married Greg she had been under the impression that they would be together forever. They were both attractive, they related to one another in a way she had never related to anyone before. Sure, he was about ten years older than she was, but age was irrelevant for her. Their sex life was mind blowing and they cared for one another. He could be a bit selfish from time to time, but in her mind, all men were that way. It wasn’t until he bought the boat totally out of the blue and without saying a single word to her that she realized something was wrong.
She was not one to snoop or pry into her husband’s business. Up until the boat incident, Charlotte had trusted Greg completely. Sure, she fell asleep alone nearly every other night of the week, but he was a partner in a big accounting firm, of course there were going to be nights where he was working late into the night and wouldn’t get home until the wee hours of the morning. And she had gotten used to — and even enjoyed — the weight of him slipping into bed next to her while she was still half asleep. “Two in the morning sex” as she fondly referred to it became her favorite part of dreaming. Greg’s cold hands would slip under the covers, gently glide across the curve of her hip, warming as they trailed down her side. When his hands reached her ass, he would ever-so-gently nudge her leg off to one side and slip his hand down between her legs, seeking out the hot center. She was nearly always wet when she roused in the middle of the night and he would use it to his advantage. He would slip inside of her as easily as he’d slipped into bed next to her. If the penetration didn’t wake her up, the rough, carnal groan that escaped from deep in his throat would. He would rock her back and forth, spooning her from behind, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, forcing her down and pushing him further inside until he came — usually no more than two or three minutes later — and then fell asleep, still inside her.
The late-night sex became more and more infrequent, though, and the nights of the week where he returned home before midnight turned to one day a week. It wasn’t until Charlotte arrived at a company outing in April — one she was supposed to meet him at — that the pieces of Greg’s infidelity puzzle started to fall into place. He had been absent, a surprise to all of his co-workers, and one of the receptionists at the firm was also surprisingly absent. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, Charlotte gave her husband the benefit of the doubt and stayed for an hour and a half, hoping that he would surprise her by showing up. When she arrived home to find the lights in the bedroom on, she was really ready to tear him a new one. When she walked towards the kitchen and saw a tiny redhead in nothing but a lace thong and Charlotte’s favorite apron fleeing for the stairs, she was ready to kill him.
It had been Greg’s intention to simply sell the sailboat during the divorce. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to take it out of it’s slip and he was ready to sell it back. His receptionist mistress suffered from horrible motion sickness and he was quickly starting to realize what Charlotte had known all along — owning a sailboat was a stupid idea when you barely have time for a weeklong vacation. Charlotte, on the other hand, saw this as an opportunity. Even though she didn’t have much of an interest for sailing and she was afraid that the whole thing was going to flip right over in a high wind, Greg had spent a lot of money on it and if anyone was going to sell it, it should be her. After all, she was the one who was hurt in all of this. She got the sailboat, every high tech piece of equipment that went with it and even the slip it was docked at. If anything, it would be a nice place to go on the weekends. She could invite her girlfriends over for drinks and they could pretend they were in Key West without ever leaving the Midwest.
The more time that Charlotte spent on the vessel, however, the more she grew to like it. In May, she found someone at the nearby yacht club who was willing to give her some advanced sailing lessons and to help her brush up on the basics she’d learned as a teenager. By the end of the month, she felt brave enough to take the large boat out into the open water on her own. By June, after school had let out for the summer, she found herself spending most of her week on the boat and would take it out onto the lake, sometimes traveling 30 miles over the course of two days, spending each night in a different, small marina. Then, a week before the first of July, she found herself making phone calls to her family and closest friends, letting them know that she was headed north for the summer and wouldn’t be back to the city until sometime in late August. Each person she spoke to protested her decision. Her parents called the boat a “deathtrap”, convinced she was going to sink in a storm or drown. Her closest friend asked her if “going away for the summer” really meant suicide. Charlotte scoffed at all of them and promised she’d keep in touch as often as she could. She just needed the time away, the time to herself.
On July 1st, just as the sun was rising, she cast off her lines from the dock and headed north. She had some boating charts that her acquaintance from the yacht club had given her. He’d told her that all of his charts were electronic and he would be throwing them away anyway. He had given her charts for Illinois, Wisconsin, Michigan and northern Ontario. She ultimately decided on Lake Superior after browsing through the charts that she’d acquired. She conveniently kept this information from her parents and friends. They were worried about her enough already. They didn’t need to know that she was planning on tackling one of the most notoriously mysterious and difficult lakes in the system.
So here she was. Charlotte, the girl from the suburbs of Chicago, a quiet, elementary school teacher was alone in the middle of the vast wilderness of Lake Superior. She’d never experienced such a quiet as the one she was facing now. She was alone — really, really alone — and had been for the past week since she entered the lake through the locks. The weather had been surprisingly forgiving — much to her elation. The water was calm, the wind just right for a slow sail, the fog was minimal and she had not seen a single boater, with the exception of fishermen, in the past week. She was in Canada, that much she knew. She also knew she was sailing along a natural park and campgrounds, though she hadn’t seen a single camper yet.
She stretched once more and decided that now was as good a time as any to get up and out of bed. The boat rocked gently with her shifting from one side to the other and steadied once she was on her feet. She padded into the galley and opened up the cabin doors, taking in the warm rush of air that immediately filled the area below deck with summery, fresh wilderness air.
The air, now that was something that she loved about this trip. After leaving the shores of southern Lake Michigan, it was as if something had changed. The air became cleaner, the water became clearer, everything felt so fresh and natural. It was as if Charlotte had the chance to shed off her old life in the city and start all over again. She knew that she had obligations back home, but when she sailed through the straights in Michigan, she suddenly understood the appeal of Greg’s dream to sail off to the Caribbean. When she went through the locks and entered Superior, she started to wonder if she could find a job teaching somewhere in the area. She didn’t know how she was going to return to the vast urban jungle that awaited her return in August.
Charlotte stepped up to the deck, her water bucket in hand. She peered down into the water. The boat was telling her the water depth was fifteen feet where she was anchored, but she would have never guessed it. She could see straight to the bottom — it looked no deeper than three feet. The bucket dipped down into the water and for the first time since the previous night when she had anchored, she looked at her surroundings. A well-protected cove, sheltered by granite bluffs and tall pine trees. Most of the shore was large boulders, save for a small bit of land just to the back of the boat with a little bit of sand and small pebbles. Charlotte breathed deep again, even though she had been out of the city for a couple of weeks now, she felt like she was still trying to vacate the city air from her lungs.
She lifted the bucket from the water and set it on the deck. Leaning over to gather some of the water in her hands, she splashed cool water over her bare legs then brought some to her face. Just as she was about to lift her nightgown up and over her head, she stopped.
“Red…” she said to herself softly, spotting something in the trees just beyond the spit of sand and pebbles on the shore. She may have had an entire bottle of red wine the previous night, but she had been certain there had NOT been a tent there when she eventually crawled off to bed. She grabbed her binoculars from the cockpit and peered through them to the clearing of trees. Sure enough, a red tent stood erected barely within eyesight. A yellow bag hung high up in the trees — a camper’s attempt to keep their food and essential items away from bears.
She wondered when her anchorage mate had arrived. She certainly hadn’t heard any tromping through the woods or setting up of camp — the again, her ears had been buzzing from the alcohol last night. She was both impressed and even a little angry with the mystery person up on shore. Impressed in that even she, the woman who mastered the sailboat in record time and was brave enough to make this trip all on her own, wouldn’t have had the balls to set up camp in the dark. Angry in that she was in no position to leave the anchorage; the forecast was reporting for winds to pick up and she desperately needed to bathe and had hoped to be alone as she wasn’t one to dive off the boat naked when other people were present.
Charlotte sighed and walked back down into the cabin of her boat. She poured her water into a teakettle for coffee on the tiny galley stove and dove down into the little galley ice chest for the last two eggs from her last provisioning. Like everyday, as she cooked herself a meagre breakfast, she wondered what she would do with her day. She was nearly through all of her reading material she had brought with her. Even though the first week of her trip had consisted of extremely long days and very short nights, lately, only traveling 5-10 miles a day left her with a lot of spare time on her hands. She’d hiked when the opportunity arose, but as much as she loved the wild wilderness of the area she was in, she was growing tired of hiking along dark trails with dense tree coverage with the periodic reward of a hilltop view of expansive green and blue. Her radio provided her a bit of companionship during the dusky evening hours, but she was growing tired of listening to the thoughts going through her head.
Of all the sounds that Charlotte had grown used to being on a boat, knocking was not one of them.
She couldn’t lie, it was a bit startling, especially since she had been so engrossed in the book in her lap.
“Hello?” a male voice called from outside.
Charlotte was definitely startled. She could pretend she was sleeping below, not a problem. She had encountered a few kind people along the way — mostly people roughly her parents’ age, in marinas, who realized that she was sailing all alone. Just to hear another voice though, someone who wasn’t her or the Coast Guard droning over the marine radio…
“Hello?” it was a bit more tentative this time.
Male voice, couldn’t tell the age by the voice at all — not old-old. Frantic thoughts started to race through her mind. She wondered if anyone had ever been kidnapped off their boat. Her mind wandered to rape and murder.
“Why is it always the extreme-extremes?” she chastised herself for thinking it in the first place.
“Hang on,” she said, feigning sleepiness in her voice to make him think he’d just woken her up from a late-morning nap. She marked her place in the book she was reading and slowly made her way out of the cabin into the warm, July sun.
“Hi,” a voice from over the side of the deck said. Charlotte smiled to herself just a little bit.
“What? Did you swim all the way out here?” she asked as she peered over the edge. She jumped a bit though when she realized she didn’t have to peer too far down to the water.
“Something like that,” the man said as he sat in his kayak, using his paddle as leverage to keep him close to the hull of the boat.
“Hi,” Charlotte said, somewhat stunned. She looked back up towards shore and the red tent and yellow sack were gone from the trees. She turned her gaze back towards the man in the kayak and smiled slightly. He was, in a word, rugged. If he wasn’t more or less clean shaven — he had a bit of stubble — he had a strange appearance that gave her the impression that he’d been camping out in the wilderness for months. He didn’t have long hair, but it was definitely shaggy around the ears, chin and neck. He had kind, soft eyes that were a deep shade of green and his smile was radiant. Full, red lips (possibly tinged from the sun) and dazzling white teeth. She couldn’t see much of his physique between the life vest he was wearing and his legs hidden beneath the kayak hull. His arms were well toned and muscular — even under a wetsuit — and his hands were large and strong.
“I’m headed out,” he said, very nonchalantly, “I just wanted to apologize to you for disturbing the peace last night.”
“Disturbing…what?” she asked.
“I just, I came in to the campground late last night and I may have made a bit of a ruckus setting up camp,” he explained. “I didn’t even see your boat out here in the anchorage and I tend to be a bit noisy when I think I’m all alone in an area.”
“Oh,” Charlotte said, shaking her head and silently kicking herself for not turning on the boat light the previous night. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Heavy sleeper,” he said with a smile. “No harm done then.”
“Yeah, no, don’t worry about it,” she said shaking her head.
“I just know how some of you boaters like to be left alone,” he continued. “I haven’t been on the lake in about a week now. I’ve been making my way down the river and just portaged over this way late last night. I’ll tell you, the woods are scary as hell after dark.”
“I can imagine,” she said, nodding without much interest.
“Anyway, I’ll be on my way,” he said, gently pushing off the hull. “Where you headed?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said, a bit of a bluff. She knew she was headed further west, but she didn’t know how far the next trip would be for her. “You’re leaving now? Even with the wind forecast as it is?”
“Forecast schmorecast,” he said with a smile. “Don’t believe anything about anything with Superior weather.”
Charlotte nodded, even though she could see the tops of the pine trees swaying in the wind on top of the bluffs.
“Safe travels,” she said.
The kayaker nodded.
“You alone?” he asked as he dipped a paddle in the water, sending ripples towards her. For a moment, the illogical rape and murder thought sprang into her head — she couldn’t blame herself, she was from Chicago.
“I guess I am,” she replied cooly. “You?”
“You know it,” he said, still smiling. “Unless you consider Mother Nature a travel companion.”
“A pretty silent companion, if I do say so myself,” Charlotte said, returning his smile for the first time.
“Are you kidding? Mother Nature is one talkative lady if I do say so myself,” he retorted. “Keeps me from getting sleep at night sometimes.” He effortlessly glided past the boat towards the mouth of the cove. “Anyway, you stay safe now. Enjoy the summer!”
“Thanks, you too.” And with that, the man in the kayak glided across the water, carefully maneuvering around a boulder in the water and out of Charlotte’s line of view.
She didn’t quite know what to make of the brief encounter. On the one hand, she wanted to follow him right out of the anchorage — if only to have the human companionship for a few more days. On the other hand, it seemed so strange to have a complete stranger come up, knock on the side of the boat and engage in a conversation. And apologize! Oh, the apology. Why even bother? She shook her head and retreated back below deck to pick up her reading once more.
Setting the anchor was Charlotte’s least favorite part about boating. The anchor was so heavy. It was so exhausting getting it just right. And if it didn’t set, she had to go and do it all over again. God forbid, if it dragged in the middle of the night and she had to go and set it. Again. Setting the anchor was the only part of her day where Charlotte wished she had Greg — no, not Greg, ANY other man — to drop and set the anchor for her.
After two days at anchor in the cove where she had met the kayaker, she hoisted anchor and headed fifteen miles to the west. After sitting in the anchorage for an hour or so, she realized how similar it was to the previous. The sand and small pebble beach was a bit larger, a bit longer, but there were still high bluffs and pine trees everywhere. Charlotte made herself a small dinner, trying not to go through any of her food too quickly.
After cleaning, as the sun was starting to set, she headed back out into the cockpit with a glass of wine. Sunset was, by far, her favorite part of the day. The colors were usually incredible and there was a peaceful quiet that settled over everything at dusk.
Suddenly, somewhere off to her right, there was a light splashing.
“Fish jumping,” she thought to herself and turned her head slightly. Then sharply. There, a bit more pronounced than before, was the unmistakable peak of a tent. A yellow bear sack was tied up high in the branches of a tree and there was just the slightest point of a yellow kayak sticking out from a clearing.
Charlotte was surprised, but then again, she wasn’t. She knew the kayaker was on the lake now. But 15 miles? In two days? She had to hand it to him, he had more strength in him than she could imagine having in herself. She took a contented sip of her wine and turned again. He was in the water. He was the one who she’d just heard splashing. The first (and only) time that she’d seen him, he was in a life vest and wetsuit. Now, he was bathing on the other side of the anchorage from her, waist-deep in the water wearing nothing more than something black around his wrist and the hair on his body. She sipped her wine slowly. She could see him okay. She wasn’t sure if he could see her. She was partially hidden by the canvas that covered the entry to the boat cabin. It had been a while since she’d seen anyone — certainly a long time since she’d seen anyone bathing in the most natural of settings. She felt kind of sneaky, watching the tips of his fingers dancing along the surface of the water. Small, slight ripples of water radiated from his torso and even smaller ripples danced underneath his hands. She took a long, slow sip of her wine and slowly reached for her binoculars — as if any sudden movement on her behalf would startle him and he’d skip out of the water into the depths of the pine trees.
Setting her half-empty glass of wine aside, she brought the binoculars to her eyes and gasped once she focused in on him. If he had been out hiking and kayaking around in the wilderness for months it had done his body good.
“Wow…” she gasped to herself and the air around her. With his back to her, she made out the muscles of his shoulder and back. She imagined that if Poseidon inhabited Lake Superior she was looking at his back right now. The small of his back tapered down into a smooth, muscular triangle and…well, she could only imagine the tight ass that the man must have, but the surface of the water prevented her from seeing any lower.
She made a small noise as he quickly submerged himself. She knew that the water around her vessel was cold, perhaps it was warmer closer to shore? The top of his chestnut brown head bobbed at the surface for a few moments before he came bursting back to the surface, water pouring down his face and sculpted chest and down to his…
“Oh my god,” Charlotte breathed, making no effort to cover her open mouth.
She had been perfectly happy with Greg and his physique — after all, she had been under the impression she’d be with him forever — eventually everyone’s body takes a turn for the worst. At least that was what she always told herself. He wasn’t the fittest man in the world. Long working hours left little time for him to go to the gym and he ate his lunch out nearly every day (even though Charlotte offered to make him lunch all the time). He had a bit of a belly, but his arms and legs were muscular. His ass was soft and his dick was…well, it left a bit to be desired, but it was fine. It always pleased Charlotte.
But this. The mystery kayaker had officially cleared any thought of “Greg” from her mind completely. His body was as close to Charlotte’s definition of perfect as could be! She could tell — even through her binoculars — that he had amazing upper body strength. Not that it came as a total surprise given the effortlessness in his kayak strokes. He didn’t have rock-hard abs, but his stomach was nicely defined — no beer gut, not even a little bit. His chest had a nice, light covering of dark hair which neatly trailed down his middle, down below his navel and down to a larger expanse of hair.
“Wow,” she breathed again, long and slow as he took a couple of steps backward, the water shallowing to the point where she was able to see what, deep down, she really wanted to see.
She didn’t have the experience of having come in contact with a lot of cocks in the course of her life. Greg had been her fourth. Her first, she’d been with once, and she didn’t remember what he was like except that he felt way too large for her to handle. The second and third were both small. The third had even experienced unfortunate erectile problems. In retrospect, Greg really had been the best lay she’d had, but looking at the man in front of her in the water… If the water was as cold up close to shore as it was at her boat, it was not evident. He was thick, decent length — considering he wasn’t aroused — and, Charlotte sighed, for the first time in several months she desperately wanted to be close to a man again.
Her binoculars trailed to his face again and she froze. She may have even let out a cartoonish, “Meep” before quickly lowering the device to her lap. He was staring right at her, even without the aid of magnification, she could see a very slight smile on his face. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest and she felt a hot flush sweep through her entire body when he gave her a small wave. She buried her head in her hands and could have sworn that she heard him chuckle from across the water.
There had been times on the trip that she had felt eons older than she actually was. At this very moment, though, she felt as if she was a giddy teenage girl all over again. And she’d been caught. Redhanded. WITH binoculars. She felt like crawling up in a ball out of embarrassment.
She’d slept on it. Was it really so bad? They were both adults. Maybe he had been doing it on purpose. After all, she hadn’t even noticed him in the water until she heard a small splash. He had clearly seen her and the boat out at anchor. She grinned to herself in the hours of early morning.
“Two can play this game,” she said quietly to herself as she pushed off the covers from sleep and headed out of the cabin to the deck to hook up the sun shower that she had just been waiting to use.
Charlotte stood in the cockpit and squinted towards the shore. She had thought that she’d seen the man walking around with a cup of coffee — she had definitely seen a small trail of smoke from a campfire, so he had to be awake and around. At the first glimpse of peachy, tanned skin and dark hair, she slowly lifted her tank top above her head. For the first time, well, ever, she was thanking Greg for his infidelity and the divorce and most of all, the boat. She was young. Young enough to still be in college. Her body was still in perfect shape — ideal, even. Her breasts were still firm and high, her stomach and arms were toned from hours spent at the gym in utter frustration. She was tan from weeks spent on the boat and in the sun. Her usual light brown hair had turned into a golden brown with golden blonde streaks and as she lifted her arms to let the small spigot of water trickle down between her breasts, she swore to herself that she had never felt so beautiful.
“I don’t believe I introduced myself the other day,” Charlotte said as she stepped into the flattened camp circle the kayaker had set himself up in.
He’d watched her from the shore, that much she knew. He’d sat on a large boulder off of the sand beach, coffee mug in one hand and the other casually placed on his thigh. After getting dressed, she decided that she’d spent too much time on her boat and needed to stretch her legs. Normally, she would have never considered herself so bold but now after seeing him the previous evening and watching him watch her while she bathed, she felt an ache and desire so deep in the pit of her stomach that she needed to make a move.
He spun around, surprised to hear a voice behind him. Surprised to hear HER voice behind him. He was shirtless, tidying up his campsite and throwing some food items into the yellow bear sack. Up close, Charlotte could see how well tanned his arms were and she noticed the twinge of golden highlights in his hair.
“Hi,” he breathed, caught off guard, of course.
“I’m Charlotte,” she introduced herself, very straight to the point.
“Uh, Adam,” he said, wiping his hand against his pant leg, brushing off the dirt before he extended it to her. She took his hand into her own and smiled. His hand dwarfed hers and she was suddenly embarrassed by the roughness of her palm against his. Normally, her hands were as smooth as silk, but with the boat, she had neglected them more than usual and the boat lines had roughened her palms.
“Sorry for disturbing the peace here,” she mimicked from the previous day. He chuckled softly and nodded.
“You should be,” he deadpanned, “us kayakers like our peace and quiet.”
“How long are you staying?” she asked, seriously.
He sighed and attached the yellow bag to a rope hanging from the tree, “What about you?”
Charlotte shrugged, “Depends on the weather, I guess.”
“What did I tell you about the weather?” he asked as he effortlessly hoisted the bag up into the tree. “Or wait, did I tell that little pearl of wisdom to another lone female sailor?”
She smiled and kicked a small pebble at her feet. “I needed to get off the boat. I need to walk around a bit, stretch my legs.”
Adam simply nodded and turned to Charlotte, visibly looking her up and down, taking her in completely. She’d dressed to impress before heading into shore. She was wearing a light pair of capri pants that accentuated her trim thighs and calves and a tank top that was fit her chest perfectly and highlighted her tight waist. She smiled, enjoying the brief moment of undivided attention before purposely clearing her throat.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I don’t have a map of the trails so I was hoping you might come with?”
She could feel a magnetism between the two of them. She wanted so badly to reach up and touch his jaw where it met his earlobe and run her fingers lightly down the length of his neck. She wanted to touch his bare chest while leaning in for a deep, long kiss. She imagined he tasted like the woods and campfire.
“You want to borrow mine?” he asked, glancing back towards his tent. “I pretty much know this area like the back of my hand.”
Charlotte shook her head and took a step closer towards him. She wondered where she had gained the courage to approach a stranger like this. Still, she felt awkward and when she looked into his dark, green eyes and saw the way he drank her in, she felt herself stepping back like a nervous freshman about to sit next to the cute boy in class.
“No,” she said, trying to find confidence in her voice. “I’ll just…wander.”
He smiled, “I’d love to take you to some of my favorite trails, but I really need to do some things around here.” He looked around his campsite, and Charlotte nodded, wondering what one could possibly have to do around a campsite.
“Okay,” she said tentatively, “well…” she took a bold step, “I don’t know how you are on food but I have plenty and…you want to come out for dinner?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Sure,” he said. “Dinner.”
“Come by whenever,” she said, feeling a flush in her cheeks. “I mean, after I’m through with my little aimless walk in the woods here.”
“Sorry I can’t come with,” he said, turning back towards his tent.
Charlotte hadn’t even thought of the possibility of dates when she was packing for her trip. She’d packed the basics for making herself look nice for the times that she was amongst civilization, but she’d left some of her favorite “date” items behind.
She hadn’t seen Adam on her way back down to the water’s edge, but everything of his was still at his campsite, so she knew he hadn’t run off. She wondered if she should have offered to pick him up from shore, but he had his kayak.
The familiar sound against the hull.
“Come on up!” she called from down in the cabin as she stirred a pan of spaghetti sauce. She had racked her mind trying to figure out what to make, it wasn’t as if she had a lot of space or options in her galley kitchenette. She thought about all the things that Adam was probably eating while camping and kayaking and decided relatively homemade spaghetti was a safe choice. Dessert would be the best though, a small apple cobbler.
“Wow,” Adam said, hopping into the cockpit as if it was second nature. “Swanky digs.”
“Thanks,” Charlotte said, trying to ignore the lightheaded feeling she had from some wine and simply being in close proximity to such an attractive man.
“What do you do again?” he asked, making himself comfortable in the open air.
“I never said,” she replied. “Elementary school teacher.”
He whistled, “One well paid teacher. Where are you from?”
Charlotte laughed, “Chicago.”
“Note to self,” he said, drumming his fingers against fiberglass, “find teaching job in Chicago.”
“You want a drink?” Charlotte asked, waving her half-empty glass of wine in front of the entryway.
“Sure, absolutely,” he replied. “Don’t get many offers for those out in the wild.”
“Spaghetti okay?” she asked, handing up a glass.
“Oh yeah,” he replied, taking a short sip of the wine. “Been living off jerky and hardtack for the last couple weeks.”
“I am. Freeze-dried meals are a bit more my style.”
Charlotte giggled in a way she hadn’t in months. Naturally, she blamed the wine she was drinking and the presence of another human being — but there was something else. She wasn’t one to doubt the presence of pheromones between two people of the opposite sex, but it had been a long, long time since she’d felt the overwhelming pull of them.
“You still haven’t answered the biggest question I’ve had,” he said, giving her a long gaze from across the small cockpit table.
“And that is?” she giggled, knowing full well what the question was. Why was she out here alone? How did she get here? Why was she here at all? The truth was, earlier in the evening, she had been too embarrassed to disclose information about her divorce, but after a few more sips of wine and the orange-red glow emanating from the treetops from sunset, she felt her guard slowly slipping away.
“I’ve asked you at least three times now,” he said. “I know you’re not that drunk.”
“Why are you out here alone? Why are you here? Where are you even from?” she teased right back at him. His smile slowly melted away and he turned his gaze down towards his empty plate. He had asked for seconds — which Charlotte happily supplied him with — but she was only nearing the very end of her first serving and had no intentions for another.
“I’m sorry…” she said quietly, a forkful of spaghetti dodging the corner of her mouth before finding its way inside. “I just…you want to know things about me.”
“No, I know,” he nodded. “Fair is fair. I just…it’s difficult.”
“Well, maybe I should start with the easier question,” she said as she swiped her napkin across her cheek. She wondered for a fleeting second why she felt so uninhibited. “How long have you been up here?”
“Since March,” he said quietly, twirling his fork around in some leftover spaghetti sauce.
Charlotte sat, starting with her mouth slightly agape at his answer. “Seriously?”
Adam nodded. “Started out from Minneapolis. Hitchhiked my way to Duluth, befriended a couple fishermen there, made my way to Isle Royale, went from Isle Royale to Thunder Bay and started working myself this way.”
Adam sighed this time and Charlotte could have sworn that she saw his head sink a little.
“My fiance…well, no, I guess she’d be my ex-fiance now,” he said quietly. “She left.”
“So you left, too?”
“We had a daughter,” he said, even quieter this time if it was possible. “Just…middle of the day. Gone.”
“Oh,” she said it quietly, as sympathetically as she could. All the sudden, her divorce story didn’t seem quite so sad anymore. Hell, she’d gotten a boat out of it. The man sitting across from her though had run away from everything. As far as she could tell, he’d lost everything.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head and regaining his composure. “It’s not usually something that I talk about. And usually after a long day of kayaking, I don’t even think about it. The lake is challenging and it keeps my mind off of it. Off of everything.”
“When did she…leave?” she said ‘leave’ in almost a whisper.
“December,” he replied. “Early December. Just left a note on the counter.”
“And you didn’t search for them?”
He simply shook his head like he was trying to shake a bad dream from his mind. Charlotte bit her bottom lip and nodded.
“Well, you and I are one in the same then,” she said quickly. “Oh yeah?” Adam asked, his smile slowly creeping back across his face.
“Well, I guess,” she replied with a shrug. “Divorced.”
“What?” he gasped, his eyes narrowing and his gaze quickly zooming in on her left hand. “You can’t be any older than what? 22?”
She smiled, but her smile was quickly replaced with the former shame she felt — the irrational shame of being such a young divorcee.
“Twenty five,” she said. “He…” she swallowed away the lump in her throat. “Screwing the receptionist.”
“Wow,” he said.
“I won the boat,” she finished, rather flatly. “And I decided that it was better to just get away from everything.”
“Wait, you won the boat?”
“In the divorce.”
Adam chucked to himself, “Oh, I thought that you’d won it in some contest or something.”
Charlotte smiled this time and shook her head. “Not quite that easily.”
The boat slowly started to swing with a slight wind shift and Charlotte leaned back to gaze at the swirling colors of the sunset over the tree line.
“Do you mind?” Adam said, standing halfway to join her on her side of the cockpit.
Charlotte shook her head and moved to the side to give him room to sit next to her. He quickly slid in next to her, relaxed and turned his gaze to her instead of the sunset. They sat quietly for a moment, before she turned to him with a puzzled look in her eyes.
“You have sauce on your…in the corner there…,” he said, lifting his hand to the side of her face, brushing a spot of sauce away from the corner of her lip. She blushed, thinking that she’d cleaned it all away — feeling silly that she’d left some in a spot she could have easily cleaned away with the tip of her tongue.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, feeling a weightiness settle in around her head. His thumb had barely moved from the corner of her mouth and he was so close to her that she could smell and sense things about him. He smelled like the outdoors — he smelled like the lake and the trees and there was a slight lingering scent of peppermint and tomato sauce. She wanted to reach over and touch his thigh, his arm, something, but she was too hesitant and she couldn’t figure out why.
“Do you do this a lot?” she asked quietly, a little hesitantly, quickly wondering how many sailors and campers he may have encountered on his journey since March. How many of them were eager to take him in and feed him a meal? How many of them were young like her and felt this attraction to him? How many of them might have fucked him?
“Not exactly,” he said, his thumb sweeping over her chin and up to her bottom lip. He parted her lips slowly with his finger and pushed his way to the teeth. She gladly allowed him to, the very tip of her tongue just barely sweeping over his thumbnail.
“Have you ever…” she stopped herself, inched closer to him and let the side of her thigh slide against his. His was so much more muscular in comparison to hers — clearly from months of hiking, kayaking and being outdoors. She wanted to ask if he’d slept with women along his trip — how many women it had been, but it felt too forward. Instead, she slowly closed her eyes and let the tip of his thumb trespass each curve of her lips and the ridge of her bottom teeth. Every other moment, she would let her tongue touch him — just to get a little taste of him. It was only seconds, but in those short, few seconds she wanted more of him than she could have imagined.
“What?” he asked, slowly leaning in to her, his thumb trailing down her chin, his fingers dancing down of the side of her neck, around to the nape where he pulled her towards him and kissed her firmly on the mouth he had only just discovered. Charlotte closed her eyes tightly and felt herself practically fall into his arms. It had been a long time since she had literally felt swept off her feet by someone. She let her tongue explore his lips first, before tentatively pushing in just a little bit further to taste his tongue. He tasted like the wine and spaghetti she’d just fed him and she noticed the scent of earthy peppermint emanating from him.
“Nevermind,” she whispered between kisses as she circled her arms around his neck.
If there had been one thing that Charlotte had definitely not been planning on doing over the course of the summer, it was sex. She was in no way prepared for it at all. She hardly even knew where one had sex on a boat. Sure, one could receive a nice, pleasant, man-on-top fucking in the bed she slept, but over all, she had been unimpressed with the spaces the boat provided. She had wondered on occasion if it had ever occurred to Greg when he had been purchasing the vessel.
Her thoughts immediately snapped away from Greg as Adam pulled her into his lap and nipped at her neck below her ear. She gasped sharply and instinctively pressed her ass into Adam’s crotch. She could already feel him growing hard from the small gesture. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her tightly against his body. He furiously planted hot kisses across the back of her neck, stopping to nibble her earlobes before allowing his lips to trail back to her spine. She moaned quietly, and wrapped her hand around the wheel in the cockpit, grinding twice against Adam’s cock.
“I would have never pegged you for the person you are,” he breathed against her ear.
“What kind…” she gasped as he lightly thrust himself against her ass. “Person?”
His hand snaked under the hem of her t-shirt and his fingers pressed into the bare flesh under her breasts. She turned her head towards him and he kissed her, running his tongue slowly along her bottom lip.
“The first day I saw you, I thought you were some girl on vacation with her family or with a boyfriend or…” he kissed her again, “something. I don’t know.” She moaned again as she felt his cock push against his pants at her ass.
She practically whimpered as his hand grazed over the thin cloth of her bra, his fingers immediately zoning in on her already erect nipple. He pinched the raised nub and exhaled against her neck, exerting just enough pressure to get her to groan and buck against the pressure building in his pants.
“It’s been so long…” she breathed, reaching around her back with her free hand and running the palm of her hand up and down his shaft.
“You are so…” he groaned slightly as her insistent fingers found the zipper and her hand deftly slipped underneath the fabric.
“What?” she asked, bucking against him again as he pinched at the other nipple.
“Fucking hot,” he breathed into her as she worked her hand up and down around his cock. She was a little surprised by the comment, flattered, of course. She removed her hand from his pants and quickly stood to her feet. She turned and smiled at the startled look Adam wore on his face all the sudden.
“I’m sorry,” he panted. She smiled a little wider and shook her head.
“I’m flattered,” she said as she hooked her fingers around the hem of her shirt and quickly lifted it up over her head.
“Oh, thank god,” he said with a sigh of relief. “I thought I offended you…” he trailed off as he watched her shimmy her way out of her pants. She knew that he’d watched her from the shore earlier in the morning, but he didn’t have binoculars like she did.
“Of course not,” she said, leaning down and planting a kiss against his lips. She returned to his lap, straddling him as securely as she could.
“Here?” he asked, looking around the cove. There wasn’t anyone else around, that was for certain and dusk had settled in and the stars were starting to show themselves in the sky above.
“Believe me,” she replied. “Much more comfortable.” She smiled and undid the button at the top of his pants and pushed away the hem. His dick sprang free immediately — clearly he wasn’t one to wear underwear out in the great, wide wilderness. She smiled devilishly and wrapped her hand around him.
“When was the last time someone gave you a great blow job?” she asked. He let his gaze shift toward the sky above in thought. “If you have to think about it that deeply, it’s been too long.” She shifted her knees back and bent over, taking him into her mouth in an act of flexibility that had driven every man she’d ever been with in the past absolutely crazy. He groaned loudly and his hands immediately went to the back of her head, guiding her and positioning her in the right place.
“Fuck me,” he groaned. “Where did you…” gasp, “learn how to…” gasp, “do this?”
She sucked hard on his dick and slowly withdrew it from her mouth, creating an incredible amount of suction as she pulled her head away.
“Some people are just hard to please,” she said with a smile before running her tongue around the tip of his cock while she gently massaged his balls.
“I’m not,” he stated as his hips jerked towards her. “Very…” he gasped again as she took the length of him into her mouth. “…Easy.”
She felt his balls twitch in her hands and she prepared herself for his release, but he didn’t come. She sucked some more, eagerly than she had before. Again, he groaned and twitched underneath her, but nothing came.
“I swallow,” she said very simply, thinking it would egg him on.
“Fuck, you do?” he groaned as she wrapped her mouth around him again. “And here I am…” he grunted as he thrust his hips against her mouth. “Being courteous.” She giggled from deep in her throat and he groaned again as the vibrations moved through his cock.
“Oh fuck,” he panted, “oh shit…” his hips pumped in sync with the rhythm of Charlotte’s mouth. She made encouraging noises deep within her throat and she took every inch of him that she was able. With little warning other than a yank of the hair at the back of her head, he came in her mouth. Wave after wave of warm, salty, creaminess invaded the back of her mouth. She quickly swallowed and licked him clean as she backed away and returned to her feet.
She put her hands on her hips and looked down at Adam with a smile on his face. His arms lay limp at his sides and his breathing was heavy as if he’d just finished running a marathon.
“I hope you’re not finished for the night,” she said as she swiped her finger across the corner of her mouth.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” he breathed as he took her hand into his and pulled her down to his lap again.
“It’s nice to hear,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time someone, other than my mom, said that to me.”
His breathing slowly returned to normal and he cupped her face in his hand. She relished the touch, it was so kind, so gentle and just what she had been yearning for over the past few weeks. The touch of another human being, a kind one at that, who understood her situation. She was overwhelmed by his kindness — not to mention his sexiness — she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. They kissed deeply for a minute and she subtly swiveled her hips over his own.
“How long before round two?” she whispered, her lips grazing his ear.
He contemplated the question for a minute before replying, “You set up your nighttime boat light and I think something can be arranged.” She smiled and quickly hopped to her feet. She ducked below deck and flicked the switch for the light at the top of the mast.
“I hope you’re ready!” she called out from the cabin.
She heard him laugh then reply, “Okay, it might be a little longer than that.”
Her head popped up in the entry way and like a giddy girl, she quickly hopped up the steps and returned to Adam’s side.
“I can’t tell you how lonely it’s been without a travel companion,” she said quietly, tucking a tuft of hair behind his ear.
“I think I have an idea,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back into his lap.
“You probably can’t stay with me either,” she said, placing both her hands on his strong shoulders.
He shrugged, “I could follow you.”
“What are you going to do after the summer?” she asked.
He silently shrugged in response.
She leaned in slowly and kissed him softly — again, savoring the scent and taste of him. He wrapped his arms around her back and nimbly undid the clasp of her bra. She giggled against his lips as she felt his hand pass over the expanse of skin where the strap was. No one she’d ever been with in the past was able to undo it that simply and easily — she was used to clumsy fumbling of fingers.
“What?” he asked as he pushed the straps off her shoulders.
“Nothing,” she whispered as she allowed the bra to drop down between the two of them. She cast it away to the side and pressed her bare breasts against his chest.
Adam pulled away and took in her naked torso. He smiled and ran his hands over her chest, paying attention to each perfectly round orb that stood in front of him. He gave attention to the right first; he cupped the breast in his hand and flicked his finger over the darkened nipple. Her hips swayed against his, ever so subtly, whetting his sexual appetite again. He leaned forward and took the little nub in his mouth. His tongue swirled in a lazy circle around it before he carefully nibbled at it. Charlotte cried out quietly and her hips swayed again — a little more insistently this time.
“I think someone likes that…” he said with a devious smile on his face. His tongue made another circle around her right nipple as he brought his hand to the left and delicately pinched it between his fingers. Charlotte cried louder this time and immediately felt a wetness surge underneath her.
“I’m getting wet,” she breathed as he pinched her nipples once more. He pulled away and his eyes met hers. He smiled again and his hand ducked down between her legs. He rubbed his fingers against the cotton of her underwear and savored the wet, slickness that seeped through the cloth.
“I guess so,” he said. He pushed the cloth to the side and pressed his fingers against her pussy. The heat and wetness of it made his erection grow stronger yet. He grinned and licked his lips while Charlotte wished there was more room in the cockpit for her to receive oral.
As if reading her mind, Adam said, “Normally, I’d give you a little something-something before moving on…”
She shook her head without thinking twice, “It’s totally fine.” She kissed him again and slowly stood up once again.
“I guess we don’t have a whole lot of options for positions here,” he said as she slid her panties down her hips and legs.
“I don’t care if you don’t,” she said, straddling his knees once again.
“I just want you to know,” he said, hungrily scanning her body with his eyes, “I don’t ever do this.”
She laughed, “Neither do I.”
“I mean,” he continued, “I’ve wanted to it’s just…I never have.” She nodded. “Anywhere else and I would have demanded to know you first.”
She leaned in close to him, “I know you plenty well already and you know me.”
“Adam from Minneapolis,” he joked.
“Charlotte from Chicago,” she replied back to him. She took his dick in her hand and pumped her fist up and down twice for good measure. He was ready to go again and she was ready to take him.
She positioned him at her entrance and slowly lowered herself onto him. Her knees nearly buckled from the overwhelming sensation of it. It’d been too long since she’d last had sex and she almost felt like a virgin again. Adam’s cock was large — very large — in comparison to what she’d been used to in the past. She groaned a bit as she lowered herself all the way down and hit the base. He dug his fingertips into her ass and held her tight against him until she had acclimated to his size.
“Oh my god,” she gasped as she rolled her hips on top of his, sending a jolt through her body. “You’re huge!”
“And you’re…” he pumped himself into her twice and grunted, “you’re so…fucking tight.”
She began to rock her hips back and forth, settling the two of them into a rhythm. She was astonished by how completely filled she felt by him. He made her feel so good. She’d always loved being on top because her previous partners had been smaller — not to mention the control it gave her — but this was almost too much. Almost. Every time she rocked forward, she would hit the spot that sent an electric-like current through her entire body. Her fingers and toes tingled; and she was certain it had nothing to do with the cool, night air.
When Charlotte tossed her head back, Adam took the opportunity to stealthily move his hand between their bodies and he flicked his thumb over her clit. She cried out in surprise and excitement.
“Again,” she said. She opened her eyes and stared at the blanket of stars above. The boat was swinging, just slightly, and it made her dizzy. She refocused her gaze on Adam and cried out again as he traced a circle around her sensitive nub.
He thrust into her hard and she cried out again.
“Louder,” he said. He traced another circle and thrust himself as far as she would allow and she cried out even louder. Her cry echoed through the anchorage, her voice reverberating off the rocks and trees.
“I hope there’s no one around,” she joked. He smiled and sought out her nipple with his tongue. Another slow circle, another loud moan. He chuckled softly against her chest, thrust and gently as he could bit down at the skin.
“Fuck!” she cried out loudly, the noise echoing all around them.
“Let’s try something else,” he said quietly, stilling her hips with his hands.
“What?” she asked.
“Stand,” he replied. She shrugged and did as he requested. As he pulled out from her and she stood up, she felt weak in the knees, already exhausted, and empty. She frowned as he stood up next to her and went to stand behind her.
“What’re you…” she started to say. She felt his dick against her ass and although she wasn’t totally opposed to the idea of anal sex, she preferred it if they didn’t quite venture over that bridge just yet. “Adam, I…” she stopped herself as he pushed on her shoulders, silently signaling her to bend over. She obliged without any objection, but in the back of her mind, she wondered what would happen next.
“If it’s too intense,” he said, positioning himself against her opening again, “just say so. I’ve never quite been able to successfully master it with anyone else.”
She responded with a garbled, “uh huh” and he pushed himself deep inside her once again with a single, quick motion.
“Oh, holy shit,” she breathed as her shoulders slumped forward.
“Too intense?” he asked, stilling for a moment. She shook her head wordlessly and pounded her palm against the fiberglass of the deck, urging him to continue.
“Good?” he asked and she nodded and gave the same response as before, unable to even speak from every sensation racing through her body.
He fucked her hard and fast, reaching around every other moment to tickle her clit or fondle her breasts. She gratefully accepted every single thrust and touch. She was completely unaware to the moans and groans of pleasure escaping her lips and when he suddenly spanked her across the fleshy part of her ass, she thought that she would come right then and there.
He separated the cheeks of her ass and tentatively started to trace a circle around her asshole. They hadn’t said anything to one another about that entrance and he wasn’t sure what her feelings were regarding it. The last thing that he wanted was to be tossed aside and rejected for the rest of the evening for trespassing somewhere she did not want him to go.
“Oh god,” she groaned when his thumb passed over the tiny entrance. He quickly withdrew his hand but she shook her head fervently. “No, no, do it again.” He smiled and felt his cock respond inside of her. He’d never had a woman actually consent to anal play and he’d always wanted to try it. Sure, now wasn’t the best time seeing as he was already so close to finishing, but the approval alone, the idea that he had the permission to play around with the idea; it was all he needed.
He pressed his thumb against the puckered hole again and gently prodded his way inside, not missing a beat as he pumped his cock in and out of her.
“Ugh,” she groaned, unaccustomed to the feeling of anything inside her ass. “Fuck…” She didn’t reject his thumb or the sensation, it was simply foreign to her. None of her previous partners had any interest in playing with that particular orifice. Sure, a couple of times someone would blindly press themselves against it, but that was it.
His thumb slid in up to the first knuckle, he stopped and started to make small back and forth motions with the digit.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Charlotte moaned over and over. She could feel herself tightening around him even more — if that was even possible. She knew that an orgasm was coming and that it would be a strong one.
The boat was starting to gently rock back and forth in sync with their movements. Charlotte’s gaze went from the deck to the water that stretched out all around them. She felt dizzy and saw stars in her eyes. She closed her eyes and cried out loudly as Adam hit just the right spot with his cock and she came.
She came harder than she could ever remember. Her arms and legs shook and she was certain that the only reason she managed to even stay standing was on account of Adam’s strong arm around her waist holding her up. The contractions and spasms of her muscles sent him over the edge next. He pushed his thumb further into her ass than he had intended, giving him the added sensation of even more friction against his cock. He cried out too; something that he couldn’t remember having ever done. It hadn’t been his intention to come inside her, but he couldn’t pull out fast enough, nor could he get enough of the sensations pulsing around him.
“Fuck,” he breathed as he fell forward, his arms draping hers.
They stood silently for a few moments, the only sounds around them being their own breathing and the nighttime sounds of wilderness.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, quietly, as he started becoming soft again.
“For what?” she asked, her voice was low and sexy.
“I didn’t plan to…” he replied and slipped out, some of his cum dripping from within her and sticking to her thigh. “I can go grab a towel.”
She shook her head and turned to face him, “It’s fine.” She didn’t tell him that she loved the sensation of it dripping out. He sat down on the seat across from where she stood and looked around at the night sky.
“I didn’t bring any light to get back to shore with,” he said as he looked up at the sky.
“I can give you one,” she said, her eyes caught his and she smiled. “Or you can stay with me tonight.”
He nodded and said, “I think I’ll stay.”