Annalea, Princess of Nemusmar
~~
But first I had to pass the day. Of course I'd need me rest–and there'd be plenty of time for that. When finally I was relieved from watch, I should've made for me cabin; but I was feeling too jubilant to sleep. I thought to spend a few hours in the company of me beloved Annalea, catching up on our lives.
She was occupied that day draughting lists of items for conveyance as requested by the captain and Estaban, as regards their venture (as concerned me not at all). But this was a simple and mundane task for Annalea. She could quite readily put her mind to this and provide scintillating conversation, simultaneously. We had a glorious morning together, and then I trundled off to me cabin and to me sleep.
It seemed I'd but shut me eyes, when came a banging on the cabin door. The captain requested me presence, on deck. 'Twould seem the accused man from the night afore claimed he'd been simply trying to collect on bad gambling debts. And that "Mr. Crockett" had agreed he'd the right, and had dismissed the matter, out-of-hand. But his enemies had gone against "Mr. Crockett's" orders, and had locked him up anyway. I hated to admit that we had a man in our employ of such disreputable character and such unimaginable ignorance as to believe he could put forth such a falsehood, they would not think to wake me to verify his story, and he would be released with no consequences to follow. I reported to the captain, and then lingered on deck–in the ship's company–to witness and relish each stroke of the lash, as it slapped flesh from the hide of a most ignorant nuisance who was costing me rest!
Returned to me cabin, and desperate for me bed, me head went down and me brain went out—simultaneously. I'd not've thought it, but a few hours were actually passed in gentle slumber afore the next interuption. I dreamt I was lying in me cabin–in a coffin. I was as dead as a mackerel. And dressed out regally–princely–no, priestly! Several hooded men burst through the cabin door and surrounded the coffin. When they threw back their hoods, they had the morbid heads of vultures. And they were tearing at me vestments to reach me putrefied flesh! I was desperately trying to scream for help! But I couldn't, you see, being dead and all!
I awoke to the sound of me own voice screaming, "No! No! No!" This, to discover pandemonium in me cabin, and that commotion caused by wild men who'd been poking and prodding me to wake up! It was an assemblage of me mates, come to announce their intentions to celebrate with me, right then–as they'd all be at other duties that night. Once I'd plotted me brain into this world–no longer in the dream world–I joined them in laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Now sleep is important, but mates are moreso. I felt it most proper to carouse a bit with these lads, and continue me sleep when they left, in just a short while. And further, having just experienced me second bad dream–nightmare–the only two such dreams I could even remember having... I did not wish to be left alone to contemplate their meaning; that would prevent any further sleep. So, for a few moments spent with the lads, I was certain to feel much improved.
Some hours later, came a rap at the door, and the announcement that me mates were expected to their posts, in short order. At this point, I'd consumed more than half so much drink as I'd've expected for the whole night. But the night had not even begun–'though it was advancing on me rapidly. I must be asleep! So I emptied me cabin and tried once again. 'Twas not so quick and easy, this time, to go under. But, finally, I made it happen.
Finally, sleep came. And then it went! Hands upon me, pulling and shaking me. "Wake up! Wake up!" Annalea was persistent–and insistent that I come to, fully. "Papa, come! Papa, hurry! You are missing your own party. All are awaiting you. Wake up! Get up!"
"Ahhh... good day, pet."
"Not by the sight of you. You look awful!"
"Well, I did not sleep well, at all."
Annalea yanked at me 'til I sat complete upright in me bed. Scrounging about, she found a clean blouse and weskit and some breeches, and tossed them at me. "Hurry, hurry!"
She struggled to help me dress, but we were both too flustered, and arms and sleeves and leggings and whatnots were just getting tangled. She laughed and I laughed and we both gave up. "Do the best you can, Papa. I'll tell them you are on your way."
A kiss and a kiss and she was gone out the door.
Me arrival at the doin's was greeted with thunderous applause. Only me natural modesty allowed me to stand tolerant and humbly accept their accolades. As the din began to peter out, I raised me arms and prepared to respond to this great and touching tribute. "Friends...."
"All well and good. Aye, that will do, Crockett." The captain curtailed the speech out from under me. Someone placed a large drink in me hands, the captain said a few kind words over me, and we all commenced to carousing the night away. 'Twas the finest tribute I'd ever had, or ever attended–for anyone! I shared a drink and a joke with every good soul aboard, that night.
Of course, me scheme was to spend a bit more time with the sisters; but every time I made an ambitious try, I'd be pulled aways by an Oglethorpe, or Annalea or one of the others. So, for Sarah and Cynthia, I kept making promises to catch them up, soon. As night became deep, and partiers began to tire and drift off, 'twere the sisters who tried to choose me out. But 'twas difficult to break off from the revelry and the most congenial companionship of me mates. I was definitely three sheets to the wind when last they approached. 'Twas alright, 'though. With a devilish wink, they promised to catch me up, soon.
I choose to believe I am not a man who'd overstay his welcome, or fail to note the handwriting on the wall (I consider meself a most perceptive bloke), but I was the last man remaining at me party, still standing. And I was right bleary-eyed. Having no one to fun with–and naught left to drink–I figured out the party truly was over. I thought, then, to seek out the sisters, but for some reason I could not get me bearings.
When I chanced upon me cabin, I gave up the chase and staggered inside. I stripped off me garments as I crossed the boards, and flopped naked and besotted into me bed. I fell off to sleep, immediately. After a bit, I could hear sounds in the cabin; but I knew I was dreaming. I was startled again, when I thought I heard footsteps approaching me bed. But it was pitch-black; I could not see–and besides, I was dreaming.
As I returned to me doze, I felt it! The delicate touch of a woman's hand... the tender, soft skin of a woman's body... the ample curves of a woman's limbs and torso... and the passionate heat of a woman's lust. One of the sister's had found me! In the darkness–too black to see–she made me to know where all the luscious commodities and compartments of her womanhood were. As I was nibbling the ear and the cheek pressed to me mouth, her head pulled away and moved down me body. I kissed and caressed the warm form that enveloped me. She was all over me–with the sexual hunger of a most ravenous jackal!
I'd near drowned me mind in drink, and now I was out of me mind with passion. We were all about that bed–and all-ends-to–nearly wrecking it: rolling about and tangled up like two cats in a catfight! And this old tomcat cared not whether he won or lost–for the rewards came all the same. And from the wails of me "opponent," I was satisfied she was feeling quite the same. What a night! I would doze off 'twixt bouts, only to feel warm, soft hands and lips gliding upon me skin–arousing me for yet another match. What a night!
Finally, we slept: deep and long–at first, locked in spent-passion's embrace. Then we drifted to sides: she, wrapped in a blanket against the morning chill–me, stark naked and uncovered, refreshed by the cool air against me warm flesh. The entire morning evaporated away while we lie there in blissful recuperation.
Then I awoke–in early afternoon. I mean truly awoke: that spark of ignition that brings you forth–ready and anxious to be about your day's business. Not that groggy, half-wakened state when you drag your ass out of bed. Despite all I'd put meself through, I felt truly refreshed and invigorated–as a fact, rejuvenated.
I lie there a moment–enjoying that unexplainable feeling of bl
iss and contentment–just staring up and thinking. The fuzz still mantled on me brain made most of the last day and night seem a soggy, blurry distortion of probable events. Then a warm tide of emotional sensation pulsed through me veins. I remembered sex: sex and passion and physical ecstasy! Now that was surely a dream. For the one thing, it was too perfect; and for the other, I was surely too debilitated to have participated.
But when me arm stretched out and me hand came down, it came down upon a lump: a human lump–a curvaceous extension of feminine pulchritude. It was true! It was real! One of the sisters had joined me–and joined with me. How marvelous!
Ah, Sarah! Ah, Cynthia! I brought forth an image of each one: the sweet countenance, the lush, well-rounded—comfortable–form. The little freckle on Sarah's nipple. The heart-shaped mole on Cynthia's inner thigh. And the cutest dimples on the 'hinds of both. Ah, Sarah! Ah, Cynthia! Ah, the sisters! But which one? I sought to discover this for meself.
Rolling onto me side, I moved a hand under her cover and began to probe and feel. I gently worked every crevice and curve. I ran the palm of me hand–with fingers gliding–over the expanse of her ass. I found the expanse to be remarkable–and unfamiliar. But a drink-fuddled brain does play tricks upon you–most often when picturing women's dimensions. They usually expand!
I took a breast full in hand, squeezing and stroking. This, too, seemed pleasantly beyond anticipated proportions. I moved to the other breast, and was equally rewarded. I glided me hand up, from rump to pelvis, feeling moist softness and a tickle of fluff. Now more than me curiosity was fully aroused. And she was cooing and wriggling sensuously, 'neath her cover. Which one? Which one? I had to know. And I had to know, now!
I yanked away the cover, to gaze upon the sister!
"Ahhhhhhhh!" I exclaimed.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" she replied.
It was the sister! It was the wrong sister! Not Cynthia! Not Sarah! It was the other sister! It was the Oglethorpe sister!
"Ahhhhhhhh!" I screamed in her face.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" she replied.
She reached out her delicate hand and touched me with surprising firmness. Me spirit soared and me body responded; but me conscience held me fast. I arose to me feet–full erect! I thought to yell something at her; then I thought better of it. Very calmly–very gently–and very succinctly, I said to her, "You must leave."
I braced meself in anticipation of another scream or a flood of tears, but I sustained neither. She looked up at me with that angelic face. She was truly glowing. Her broad smile was augmented by her full, plush, sensuously sculpted lips. Her eyes sparkled with affection. She was truly a tender and beautiful girl!
As she arose–unashamedly naked–and crossed the cabin to where her clothes were draped over a stool, I could not take me eyes off her. The bounteous and curvaceously voluptuous perfection of her female form made its own statement. This is no girl. This is a woman: a beautiful, seductive–incredibly desirable woman!
I should feel so ashamed of meself, just standing there naked and erect–as if at attention. But I could not force me gaze away from admiring her great beauty. I just watched–speechless and motionless–as she slowly dressed herself. And it seemed that time and activity had slowed greatly. Watching her dress was as watching a ballet–each movement gracefully and meticulously performed. All that time, she kept her face to me: the sweetest smile and that heavenly glow illuminating her countenance. Having completed herself, she moved a few steps towards me, placed a kiss in the air, turned and departed.
Chapter XXII
Always, Dear Heart!