The Flying Dutchman
Anita Verkerk
Legends of the Low Lands:
THE FLYING DUTCHMAN By
Anita Verkerk
1
The Flying Dut...
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The Flying Dutchman
Anita Verkerk
Legends of the Low Lands:
THE FLYING DUTCHMAN By
Anita Verkerk
1
The Flying Dutchman
Anita Verkerk
© copyright November 2007, Anita Verkerk Cover art by Amber Moon, © copyright November 2007 New Concepts Publishing Lake Park, GA 31636 www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
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“Honey, I’m home!” Kelly Wilbers flung her purse on the coat rack, rushed through the corridor and burst into the living room. “Ron, I’m--” No one. She looked around the empty room in surprise. Where was Ron? Still at work? No, he was supposed to be home early today. Oh! She longed for him. She craved his arms around her, his lips in her hair. She wanted him to caress her skin, feel his hard erection press to her thigh just before he.... “Ah yes, go on. Please go on!” a panting, almost begging voice sounded from upstairs. Pressing her fingers to her mouth, Kelly pricked up her ears. What kind of noise was that? A voice? A female voice? From the bed room? Ron must be watching a movie in bed. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see him again! She slipped out of the living room and rushed up the stairs. “Please make me come!” the voice shouted when Kelly was halfway up the landing. Kelly stood as if bitten by an extraterrestrial being. Huh? This wasn’t a movie. It sounded too real. But there couldn’t be someone with Ron, right? Ron was her lover, her husband-to-be. They were going to be married next week. He must have lent their bedroom to one of his adulterous friends. She’d better go downstairs again. “Ron, oh yes, give it to me, give it to me....” The female voice faded away and was replaced by another, very familiar male sound. “Elsa! Elsa, I gotta come!” Elsa? Come? All blood drained from Kelly’s face. That was definitely her lover’s voice. Ron was making love to another woman! Of course not. He couldn’t be. Kelly burst into the bedroom, watching the hot scene in front of her in utter disbelief. Ron was on the bed. Their bed. Lying on his back, in his gorgeous birthday suit. The woman was sitting on top of him, as if he were a pedigree stallion. She was buck naked, and breathing hard, obviously exhausted and satisfied from the wild ride. She had round curves in just the right places and a wonderful tight sun-tanned bottom. Kelly’s hands glided over her own butt. She was too fat. And her breasts were much smaller than the perfect bosom in front of her. Ron had found himself Miss Holland. She, Kelly, was no match for this stunning beauty. An unearthly sound escaped her lips--a knowing gasp. During her absence, Ron had
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chosen another bride. Ron raised himself on one elbow, and the woman glided down his side in the move. Two faces turned at Kelly, investigating, annoyed. “Ron,” she whispered in agony. “Ron, how can you do this to me? You’re mine.” “What are you doing here?” Ron returned. “Your flight was due tomorrow.” “I came back early,” she muttered. “One of the students got ill and I--” “Welcome back. We gotta talk.” Kelly pressed her lips so firmly together that she tasted her own blood, warm and salty. “The wedding’s off,” the woman said, grinning in a wicked way. “That’s to say, he’s gonna marry me.” “Is that true?” Kelly snapped in distress, trying to catch Ron’s gaze. But he looked away. “Yes, the wedding’s off,” he muttered. “And since this house is mine, you’d better find yourself another place to live.” Kelly’s knees changed into melting ice cream, and she trembled all over. “But the Bridal Shower is in two days. Everyone’s invited!” Ron shrugged, as if he were apologizing. “Sorry. I’ve chosen Elsa.” “This can’t be. We belong together.” Kelly took a deep, steadying breath, composing herself. This was just a nightmare. She was still on the plane, flying from Athens to Amsterdam, and she’d fallen asleep. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be real. Elsa stood, shamelessly exposing her beautiful nakedness. “You heard him. He wants me. Off you go.” Kelly bit on her finger. Hard. Ouch, it hurt. Did that mean she was awake? “But this can’t be,” Kelly stuttered. Elsa grinned. A wicked mean grin. “Get lost,” she snapped. “Hey, this is my home!” Kelly shouted. An enormous anger filled her chest and her knees stopped trembling. She rushed to Elsa and hit her straight in her smiling face. “How dare you talk to me like this, you slut! You get out! This is my place. I’m not going to let you take my man!” Elsa winced but kept on smiling. “He’s mine now, you loser.” “Oh, is he?” Kelly raised her hand to slap Elsa once more, but Ron didn’t let her. Ron took her wrist in an iron grip. “Hey, let go of me!” she snapped. “You’re hurting me, you bastard.” “You watch your tongue, little wild cat. I’m not gonna sit here and let you mistreat my future wife.” His words struck Kelly like the proverbial hammer blow. “Ron, I’m your future wife,” she whispered. Why didn’t she wake up? It was high time to wake up! “Sorry, hon. I’d planned to tell you at a better moment, but I don’t wanna marry you anymore.” “But what happened? We’re a happy couple,” she cried out in despair. “Everyone says we’re a happy couple.” “Take a look at yourself,” he barked in a rude manner. “You’re too fat. Elsa has the
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tightest butt I’ve ever kissed.” “Out you go,” Elsa repeated with another mean grin. “No!” Kelly shouted. “Ron’s mine! He’s mine!” But her cries didn’t work out. Ron picked her from the floor as if she were a feather and carried her down. Before she realized what had happened, she was sitting on the dirty sidewalk, next to her unpacked red suitcase. The door slammed shut. The airplane label flew up in the sudden draft, then softly whirled down again. An enormous emptiness filled Kelly’s entire body. She was all alone now--she had nowhere to go. Orphaned at six, she was raised by her grandparents. But after Grandpa passed away, Granny had suffered from a nervous breakdown, and she was now living in a nursing home, not even remembering her own name anymore, least of all her granddaughter. Kelly tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. She sniffed, rubbing her eyes, unable to stop the tears from running down her flushed cheeks. She moaned softly. Where could she go? Her best friend and colleague Violet was still in Athens with their middle school class. Violet was her maid of honor, she was hosting the bridal shower in two days. ‘There won’t be a bridal shower’, Elsa’s mean voice toned inside her head. ‘The wedding’s off, you lame duck with your elephant butt.’ The door opened behind her, and Ron and Elsa came out. “I’ve reconsidered,” Ron said. Kelly’s heart jumped up inside her chest. Ron had reconsidered. He was throwing Elsa out! Of course, he was. This was all just a bad joke. A little fun to stress the bride. “I’m gonna stay with Elsa for a few days,” Ron went on. “That’ll give you time to find another place to live.” Leaving the door widely open, he slipped his hand into Elsa’s, and side by side they walked away. “Ron! Come back!” Kelly yelled at him, but Ron didn’t react to her outcries. He rounded a corner and was gone. As if she were made of rusty iron, Kelly stumbled stiffly to her feet, and walking like a robot she went inside, automatically heading for the bedroom closet. She opened the cupboard and with trembling fingers, she pulled out her wedding gown. It was the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen and the moment the sales woman had shown it, she’d known this gown belonged to her. Kelly took off her clothes, wrestled herself into the gown, and stepped to the mirror. Swollen mournful brown eyes stared at her from a flushed teary face that was framed by tousled brow hair. But the rest of the reflection looked fabulous in the traditional Victorian white-ivory wedding ball gown, made of pure Italian silk. The amazing dress had a perfectly fitting boned bodice, a hand-beaded neckline with shining little pearls, bell shape long sleeves and a long skirt with an inbuilt petticoat and train. The glamorous veil was long, reaching past the end of the train. Kelly sighed. She looked slim and beautiful, like a movie star stepping out of a wedding magazine, but this dazzling bride would never be kissed by her gorgeous groom.
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She turned, stumbled down the stairs and left the house, bare footed and in tears, like a robot heading for the beach where she’d spent so many wonderful hours with Ron. When she reached the yellow dunes, the sun was slowly sinking behind the horizon. A deep scarlet glow streaked across the fading blue of the sky, reflecting in the ocean water, coloring the rippled surface into a mysterious red. Kelly sat down in the warm sand, and staring at the waves gently breaking on the beach, she blew her nose. She’d been here so often with Ron, close together, holding hands, watching the sun sink until it totally dropped behind the horizon. After that, they’d mostly made sizzling love, covered by the darkness. She sniffed. She had not only lost her lover, but also her honor, her credibility. All wedding invitations had to be cancelled, the bridal shower was off and everybody would know about her disaster. People would pity her, gossip behind her back, laugh at her, whisper she was going to wind up an old maid. “She’s too fat,” Elsa’s sarcastic voice echoed inside her head. “That’s why he dumped her. She’s a waddling goose with a rhino butt!” Shame made Kelly’s cheeks flush. She couldn’t face the laughs and the cynical grins and the pity. She’d lost everything. Including her reason for living. Wiping her swollen red eyes, she came to her feet again. Her life was so over. She crossed the sandy beach until she came at the shoreline. The warm waves rolled over her feet in a comforting way and Kelly stood, staring at the glowing red sun that had almost reached the surface of the sea in his endless way down. It looked like a burning Phoenix, drowning in the scorching fire, coming to a new life the next day. A new life ... It was an attractive thought. Being born again with a beautiful tight butt. She snorted, took a deep breath and walked on, straight into the sea, her eyes fixed on the dying sun. The water reached her waist and she vaguely wondered if the salty fluids were about to ruin her gown. Oh, what the heck. She didn’t need the dress anymore, it was of no importance if the valuable silk would shrink. She wandered on, struggling against the waves that were trying to push her back to the shore, until she reached the point of no return. The ocean swept her from her feet, tugging at her, carrying her along, pulling her down, sucking her up like a gigantic killer whale swallowing his fish. It was then when Kelly realized she was being stupid, throwing away her valuable life for a rotten man’s sake. She desperately struggled to get in control again, but the ocean didn’t let go, slamming water all over her. All she could do was close her eyes to protect them from the prickling water and accept her defeat. An intense blackness overwhelming her, Kelly passed out. **** “Wish I could screw her,” a distant hungry voice toned somewhere above Kelly’s head. “Not a single chance, my boy,” a husky male voice answered. “Skipper’s got first rights. You know that very well.”
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Kelly peeped through her eyelashes and blinked. There were boots in front of her. Two pairs of worn-out brown leather boots on a tawny wooden floor next to a heap of crinkled wet white-ivory silk. She swallowed. Her poor wedding dress looked like a mess. What had happened? Where on earth had she landed? “What if I let her suck my privates, bosun?” One pair of boots shoved restlessly over the planking. “Would the old man mind?” “You bet he would,” the husky voice answered. Kelly shivered. Good grief, she was all wet. And sitting on a wooden, wobbling floor against something very hard. Hard and round. A pole? “But bosun, I’ve been without a woman for three hundred years. I’m sure the skipper...” “Shut up youngster, there he is. Skipper James Henderson.” A pair of black boots with silver spurs came in sight. “What have we here?” a deep male voice toned. “A castaway?” A castaway. Ron ... The wedding. She’d walked into the sea to finish her lousy life. Had she ended up in hell? “A drowned woman, Skipper. I was wondering if I might fuck her, please?” “Good Christians don’t abuse the dead,” the deep male voice answered, obviously in anger. “But she ain’t dead, sir. Look, she’s breathing. I saw her shiver a while ago.” “I told the youngster, Skipper has first rights,” the bosun said. Kelly bit on her tongue. She wasn’t dead. She was on a ship. And the sailors had evil plans with her. Oh my goodness, she’d been so stupid. And now she had to pay the price. But she wasn’t an easy game. She’d fight for her life! She opened her eyes. “Don’t you dare lay your dirty hands on me,” she blurted. She tried to get to her feet, but dizziness overwhelmed her. “Told you she’s alive,” the ship’s boy cried out. “Please Skipper, I haven’t embraced a woman for ages.” The skipper coughed. “None of us has,” he replied. “Bring her to my cabin.” “Aye, aye sir,” the bosun said. He took Kelly’s arm in a firm grip and tugged at her. “Let go of me!” she shouted, wrestling to get loose. The bosun jumped backwards. “Think she doesn’t want to be moved,” he muttered. “Bring her to my cabin,” the skipper ordered in a rude manner. “No way!” Kelly protested, but out of the blue other sailors appeared. The joined forces picked Kelly from the floor, and carried her over the main deck to the Captain’s cabin on the aft of the ship. It was a huge three-master. Kelly could see the swollen sails as the bosun put her down before opening a low wooden entrance door. “Shall we put her onto the bed, Skipper?” he asked. “No, in the chair, and get us a pint.” “Aye aye, sir.” As if she were a shopping bag, the sailors dropped Kelly onto a hard wooden chair and rushed out. Nervously biting on her fingernails, Kelly looked around the dusky cabin that was lighted by a dripping candle and dying late sunbeams gleaming through small, elongated
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stained glass windows. It was an unadorned simple place. A low, dark brown wooden ceiling, ditto walls and a rough, tawny planking. Against the wall stood an oak display cabinet. Behind the glass doors she saw books and nautical charts. There were also two wooden chairs in the room, and a solid wooden desk that was attached to a metal ring on the floor by a rough brown rope. The desk was covered with rolls of parchment, several quills standing in an inkwell, and a colorful round world globe. The bed was an elongated, wooden kind of crate with a bed sack and two cushions in it. There was a short pile of neatly folded sheets and woolen blankets on the end. A vague smell of rotting fish, chewing tobacco, and tar lingered in the room. In the middle of the place hung a softly swinging cage with a red and green parrot in it that studied her with two little beady eyes. “Howdy!” he shrieked. The skipper came in and sat down in front of his desk. His grayish blue eyes examined her in silence. Kelly swallowed with difficulty. What was he up to? Did he have evil plans with her in mind? “What do you want from me?” she asked, but the skipper continued staring at her and didn’t answer. “I wanna go home,” she said, but as the words left her lips she shivered. She had no place to go anymore. What did it matter where she was? It was warm in here and dry. There was a short knocking on the door, and the ship’s boy came in with a stoneware pitcher and two matching mugs. He gave Kelly a horny look overflowing with yearning desire, placed the drinks on the desk and went out. Only seconds later he returned with several flickering oil lamps. He hung one of them above the table, the others on the wall, and left the room with a polite salute. “Bye-bye!” the parrot screeched. Without a word, the skipper poured a mug, handed it to Kelly, and returned to his seat. Kelly looked at the yellowish liquid and sniffed. “What might this be?” “Beer.” “Do you have coffee for me? I hate beer.” A smile washed over his face. “We don’t have coffee, Mejoffre.” Mejoffre? That was a long forgotten word, used in the 17th century to indicate an unmarried woman. Strange. Why would he call her so? “Can you brew me a cup of tea then?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. We’ve loaded pepper grains, nutmeg, and cloves. No tea.” “Oh, but--” “Drink,” he said. It sounded like an order. She sipped from the brew, tasting it with her tongue, expecting to savor beer. “It tastes like Shandy,” she said in surprise. “Not bad at all.” Another smile washed over his face as he gulped down his beer. Over the rim of her mug Kelly studied him. He was handsome, a well-built hunk in his
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early thirties. His curly brown hair framed a well-shaven, almost classical face. Yet, his clothing was strange. He looked as if he’d just stepped out of Rembrandt’s famous 17th century painting, The Nightwatch. “Can I make love to you?” he asked. “I’m craving to penetrate a woman.” She stared at him. Was he asking her to make love to him? Did she have a choice in the matter? “Of course not,” she blurted. “I don’t even know your name.” “I’m James.” He stood, covered the space between them with two steps and stretched out his hand to her. “James Henderson, skipper of the proud three-master The Flying Dutchman. At your service, mejoffre.” His warm hand touched hers and a strange sensation flashed down her spine. He was handsome. And warm. “I’m Kelly. Nice to meet you, Captain.” “Nice to meet you!” the parrot squeaked, excitedly hopping up and down on his roost. The captain neglected the animal. He was probably used to the bird’s outcries. “Call me James.” His voice sounded hoarse. “Now let me take you.” “No, of course not,” she protested. “I never sleep with a man on my first date.” As if she ever had first dates. Ron had been her one and only lover. She coughed. “I know we’re not dating, but you get the picture.” He nodded slowly in reply. “Then you must allow me to touch you.” Kelly took a sip of her beer. He was a strange man, this handsome skipper. She was completely in his power, but he didn’t rape her. At least not yet.... “Well?” he asked. She shook her head. “I don’t want a man. I have had my fill of men.” His piercing eyes searched her gaze. “I want to feel your skin, your breasts, and the wet softness between your legs.” Kelly shifted her weight over the chair nervously. His attitude was definitely changing. It was only a matter of minutes before his tone would shift from asking to demanding, and he would take what she didn’t want to give. And after that he’d probably allow his sailors to have their way with her. She bit on her lip. He was handsome. It might not be that bad when he made love to her, but those sailors.... She shivered. “Will you please touch my privates then? Hold my shaft in your soft hands, move them up and down, and lick me?” She stared at him, unable to utter another ‘no’. “You make me feel cheap,” she whispered. “Please, leave me alone.” He nodded slowly. “I’m not a pirate, Mejoffre. I’m a sales man. Skipper of the VOC.” “Skipper!” the bird parroted. “VOC?” she whispered in confusion. Did he really say VOC? As far as she remembered the VOC was a long forgotten trading firm, also known as the Dutch East India Company. They traded spices and other consumer products like tea, silk, and Chinese porcelain. In the 17th century that was. She had misheard him.
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“Yes, the VOC,” he said, pride in his voice. “We’re on our way back from the East Indies with precious cargo.” “Oh, are you?” she said. It wasn’t a very original statement, but what else could she say to a lunatic? You’re completely nuts.... No, she’d better pretend she swallowed this strange conversation. That would be a lot safer. As far as one could be safe locked up with a lunatic, that was. Or was she in the middle of a living history play perhaps? And she was being mistaken for an actress? If that was the case they were definitely making a sex movie. She looked around, searching for a hidden camera, but she didn’t see anything of the kind. “I’ve been without a woman for too long,” he said, grievance in his voice. “Will you look at me then? Simply watch me please myself?” She sighed. It was high time to tell him she wasn’t the anticipated porn star. She stood, trying to appear self-assured. “Is this really all you can talk about? You and your horny crew? What kind of a ship is this?” “Horny!” the parrot screeched. “Horny crew!” Skipper James jumped to his feet. “Horny crew? How dare you say a thing like that? My men are the most wonderful creatures in the world.” “They are oversexed,” she snapped in anger. “That’s what they are. And the same counts for you.” His mouth fell open. “Oversexed? We’re decent people.” “Then behave like a decent man,” she snarled, “and bring me back to the beach.” He stared at her, anger glowing in his eyes. “How dare you....” he began, then he fell silent, and his face distorted as if he were in pain. “Sorry,” he stated in a hoarse voice. “I’ll take you ashore.” She sighed in relief. This nonsense would soon be over. She’d return to Ron’s house, get her stuff, and go on with her life. There was a small tourist hotel near the beach. She could rent a ‘Bed and Breakfast’ room until she’d found something more permanent to stay. Skipper Henderson cleared his throat. “On one condition,” he said. What? Did he say ‘condition?’ But he’d just promised to let her go, right? Startled, she crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him with a blend of fear and hope, trying to probe his mood. But his face was bland, incomprehensible. “What do mean? Condition?” she whispered. “I won’t touch you, but you must watch me please myself.” “But I told you I don’t want--” He silenced her with a commanding gesture. “I’m a decent man, Mejoffre, but you set foot on my ship without an invitation.” “But I didn’t intrude on purpose. I was drowning.” “So, my sailors saved your life.” She stared at him as the meaning of his words softly dripped into her brain. It was true what he said. They had saved her life. And all he asked in return was look at him while he....
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An unknown, excited prickling sizzled through her nether parts. She had never seen a man masturbate. “If I do watch you, will you give me your word you won’t touch me?” “Touch me!” the parrot shrieked. James nodded. “I swear to you on my father’s grave that I’ll row you ashore after that. Unharmed.” She sat down. “Very well then. Let’s get it over with.” “Thank you, Mejoffre. You won’t regret your decision.” “Decision!” For the first time that night James cast an annoyed glance at the parrot, walked over to the cage and pulled it from the hook on the ceiling. “Off you go,” he said. He opened the door, and with resolute moves, he put the cage outside. The bird squeaked in protest, but when James closed the door his cries faded out. “A fun animal,” Kelly said. James smiled sourly. “You would talk otherwise if you had to live with the jerk.” “Why don’t you get rid of him then?” James shook his head. “He goes with the ship. Like the furniture. All I can do is put him on the corridor when I have my fill of him.” His piercing gaze wandered over Kelly’s dress. “Enough said on the bird. We’ve other things on our mind now.” Gazing at her, he took off his black velvet doublet, revealing a white silk shirt with a broad lace collar. It was a little torn and stitched here and there, but the quality was undeniable. He took off the collar, then slid his shirt over his head. Kelly’s heart missed a beat. My! He looked gorgeous. A well-muscled chest with curly tiny hairs on it, perfect shoulders and a trim belly. No doubt, he was a regular gym visitor. Bending over, he pulled the legs of his linen breeches loose that were tied below his knees. The breeches slowly whirled to the floor. He stepped out of them and stood in front of her, half naked, wearing linen white braies and black leather boots only. His hand moved to the drawstring fastening of his braies and Kelly held her breath as he pulled them down. He was well endowed. A beautiful thick shaft and a glistening swollen head on top, ready for action. Action? She didn’t want any action, remember? Skipper James grabbed his erected cock and petted it with soft short strokes. Moving upwards, he caressed the sultry head with his forefinger and moaned in lust. The unwanted prickling in Kelly’s nether lips increased. Good grief, he made her hot. But she didn’t want to be hot. She didn’t want a man. She’d been hurt enough. Yet, she couldn’t get her eyes from his strong hand. It was now moving up and down along the shaft of his wonderful penis, stroking the head with rhythmic little circles. A soft moaning sigh escaped her lips. She was a normal, passionate woman, used to making love almost every day. She’d been missing a hard prick for a week. In her bedroom in Athens she’d been longing for Ron’s
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touches every night, craving his strong fingers, his warm tongue, his sultry, hard dick. But there had been no way to satisfy her needs, sharing the room and even the King-size bed with her friend Violet. One night, as she’d been petting her clit, yearning for an orgasm, Violet had suddenly tapped on her shoulder. “Are you alright, Kelly? I can feel you shiver, and you’re breathing so loudly.” It had been so embarrassing! Two days later, when one of the students got ill, she had immediately volunteered to fly the boy home. She longed for Ron, she couldn’t wait for his hard prick thrust into her. She sniffed resentfully. Ron hadn’t been waiting for her. He’d spent his time fucking that horrible Elsa. James groaned in lust, squeezing the head of his penis with short, hard strokes. His excitement was growing. She could see the increasing lust glowing in his eyes. He was having a good time, while she.... Staring at his dick, she shifted her weight over the chair in a lustful manner. She was hot, she wanted him to thrust that great dick into her. “James. She panted as little waves of anticipated lust flowed through her body. “I want you to touch me, I wanna feel your prick.” He gazed at her, his hand moving faster along his dick. “No.” His voice was hoarse with passion. Her eyes opened widely in surprise. “No? What do you mean, no? You want me.” “I wanted you,” he said, breathing hard. “But I’ve sworn I wouldn’t touch you.” “The vow’s cancelled,” she panted, “Take me.” “No, I’m not going to break my word. My father’s grave is too precious to me.” His hand clasped his prick again, squeezing it harder, moving quickly up and down. No! She felt so empty. She wanted him to palpate her pussy, penetrate her with his strong fingers, lick her yearning clit. He must stop masturbating and devote all that terrific energy to her satisfaction! “James, fuck me.” He groaned loudly. “No.” “James, I need you. I crave your prick. Help me!” “Help yourself,” he panted. Help herself? He wanted her to please herself, while he wasted all that tremendous passion? “James,” she pleaded. “I beg you.” “No.” “Yes!” she shouted. “How can you be so cruel!” James made a harsh sound and went on pleasing his prick. She stared at him, at his gorgeous face, his burning eyes, his fantastic cock.... In an eager hurry, she lifted her long silk skirt and slipped her fingers into her panties. “Take them off,” James commanded, out of breath. “I want to see what you’re doing.” For a moment she wanted to neglect him, but then a yearning flame glowed through her entire body, ending in her swollen nether parts. She stripped off her panties, dropped them to the floor, spread out her legs to give him the best view she could, and opened her nether lips for him.
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“Look at me,” she whispered, “Look at my pussy while I thrust a hard finger inside.” He moaned in reply, fixing his burning eyes on the soft wet spot between her legs. She thrust three fingers inside, moving them in and out, twisting, moaning, using her thumb to caress her swollen clit. “Oh, this is great,” she muttered, fingering herself with quick, hard strokes. “I’ve been waiting for this feeling for so long.” As if in reply, he slid his free arm behind his back and turned around, giving her a great view on two tight buttocks. She gasped for breath. “You make me so hot,” she panted. “Why don’t you come over, and fuck me?” But it was no use begging him, and all she could do was finger herself, and try to keep up with his moves. Groaning in an unearthly way, he squeezed his dick harder and faster until rhythmic flows of hot sperm shot from his penis. Witnessing his orgasm, a fabulous and intense feeling of pleasure overwhelmed her, and her cries of enormous unbearable lust mixed with his. As the spasms inside her softly ebbed away, she leaned back in the chair, exhausted, satisfied. It went silent in the Captain’s cabin. All she could hear was the distant sound of beating waves against the ship, her own hard breathing, and the rustling of clothes when James dressed up again. Far away the strokes of a ship’s bell chimed. “Time for supper,” James said. “Do you eat with me?” She picked her panties from the floor. “Yes, I’m hungry.” “Okay, I’ll be right back.” When James opened the low wooden door, the voice of the ship’s boy toned. “Can we have her now, Skipper?” Kelly’s stomach cramped in disgust. Good grief, that sailor wasn’t a quitter. And she might have wanted James to take her only minutes ago, she didn’t want the ship’s boy to have his way with her. Nor any other crew members for that matter. “Mejoffre is my guest,” she heard James say. “If you only point at her, I’ll have you keelhauled. Is that clear?” “Yes, Skipper,” the ship’s boy mumbled. “Sorry, Skipper. I’ll get your potage right away.” “You can go ashore within the hour. Find yourself a girl.” The door closed and the voices faded away. Kelly heaved a big sigh in relief, then quickly came to her feet and put on her panties in a hurry. She was hardly finished when the ship’s boy entered with a tray. Kelly clenched her fists. Help! Where was James? What could she do to defend herself against this horny creature? But the boy didn’t even give her a look. He put the tray on the floor, and when he draped a white linen cloth over the table in the corner, Kelly got a clear view of the contents of the tray. There was a tin tureen on it, filled with a green pulpy mash. She sniffed. Pea soup? Next to the bowl was a tin saucer with something that definitely smelled of grilled cod fish.
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On a platter lay a round, black bread. There were also two tin spoons and a sharp pointed knife. “So, here we are,” the ship’s boy muttered to himself. He picked up the tray and put it on the table. “May God bless your meal, Mejoffre,” he said with a short bow, and rushed off without awaiting her reply. Brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek, Kelly heaved a sigh of relief. She had nothing to fear anymore. James was a hell of a disciplinarian. She liked him. If it hadn’t been for that stupid vow she would have slept with him. Funny though. She’d never imagined that a complete stranger could transform her into a passionate volcano. He’d given her the most wonderful climax ever, without even touching her. My! It had been so hot to see him masturbate! The door opened and James stepped back into the cabin. Smiling at her, he pointed at the laid table. “Let’s have a bite.” She smiled in return, stood and let him shove her chair to the table. He sat down, asked for the blessing and handed her a spoon. “Enjoy your meal, Mejoffre.” James dipped his spoon into the tin tureen and tasted the soup. “It’s good,” he said and continued eating from the tureen. Huh? Where were the soup bowls? She wasn’t supposed to eat her soup from the tureen, right? James put down his spoon and cut two slices from the black bread. “Bread?” he asked, giving her a slice. He took a huge bite, put the rest of the slice on the table cloth and turned his attention to the soup again. Kelly bit into the bread. It was much saltier than the rye bread she used to eating, but it tasted good. She picked up her spoon, and tried the soup. It was warm and tasty. Thick pea soup filled with groats. Together they ate from the tureen, sharing fish and bread as if they had been dining together a thousand times, not just this once. When they were done, he said, “Let me bring you back ashore.” Kelly’s heart jumped inside her chest. She didn’t want to go. Not yet. He was so handsome. She wanted to make love to him before going home. Real love. “I want you to um ... to penetrate me. I want your hard prick.” He grinned. “Not today, sweetheart. Today, I’m bound by a vow. You know that very well.” “Can I come back tomorrow then?” She heard a vague begging in her voice and she hated herself for it. What kind of a woman was she? Was she so desperate to be laid? “I mean, I...” she stuttered. “I like you. And you said you wanted to make love to me.” “We’ll be in Amsterdam tomorrow. To unload.” “Oh, I see.” “But if you still want me, we can drop anchor here on our way back from Amsterdam.” “Back?”
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“We’ll be headed for Cape of Good Hope after that.” “Cape of Good Hope? That’s Africa, right?” He stood. “Yes. Now let me take you to the beach. My men can’t wait to go on shore leave.” She came to her feet, walked to him and pressed a tiny kiss on his cheek. “Okay, thanks for ... for everything James.” Oh, he smelled so well. Soap mixed with tobacco and man. She definitely wanted to see him again. She coughed. “What time will you be back? The day after tomorrow?” “Sunset, Mejoffre. I’ll be waiting for you at Sunset.” “I’m Kelly,” she said. “Why don’t you call me Kelly?” When his wonderful eyes pierced into hers, an excited tingle ran up her spine, turning her cheeks into a deep red. “Kelly.” For a moment it was as if he tasted her name on his tongue. “You have the most wonderful round butt I’ve ever seen. I look forward to touching you.” “Well, go ahead. Fuck me. Do it now.” He shrugged, raising his hands in an apologizing manner. “My men are waiting. And ... well, you know.” “Okay, okay. I’d wish you’d forget all about that damned vow.” He grabbed her hand, and pressing an elegant kiss on it, his eyes penetrated hers again. “In two days, I’ll be waiting for you.” Kelly swallowed, still feeling the warmth of his lips burn on her skin. “I’ll be there,” she promised. **** It was the next morning. Sparkling sunbeams fell through a crack in the curtains of the small hotel room that Kelly had hired and highlighted the ripped bed covers. But Kelly didn’t look at the shabby furniture in her temporary lodgings. Sitting in front of her laptop computer, she held her cell phone close to her ear and listened to the soft female voice toning from the other side of the telephone line. “Sail with us and have a Party, good morning,” the voice said, “How can I help you?” “Good morning,” Kelly replied. “I’d like to have some info on your VOC party ship The Flying Dutchman.” “The Flying Dutchman?” The telephonist coughed. It sounded as if she were trying to hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry Ma’am. That’s not one of our boats.” “But your firm is the only one that rents out VOC ships. It must be one of yours.” “No, we hire out two three masters, the Batavia and the Amsterdam. That’s all we’ve got.” “But I was aboard The Flying Dutchman.” “Of course you were, Ma’am.” Kelly heard the annoyance in the woman’s voice. “Have a nice day.” “No, please. Don’t hang up on me. I’m serious. I was aboard The Flying Dutchman. A three master. The skipper’s called James Henderson.” The telephonist heaved a big sigh. “Ma’am, I can appreciate a good joke, but I really have to get on with my work. I’m very busy today.” “But you must help me. I....”
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“Everybody knows The Flying Dutchman is a ghost ship, Ma’am. Have a nice day.” “A ghost ship?” Kelly blurted, but without another comment the woman hung up the phone. Sucking on her fingernail, Kelly stared at her computer screen. A ghost ship? Nonsense! But it seemed clear The Flying Dutchman wasn’t a party ship after all. Was it a normal cargo boat? She’d better search the Internet for shipping companies that sailed to the East Indies. She rubbed over her nose in confusion. It had definitely been a gorgeous three master. Would a modern company use such a ship? Slowly, she shook her head. Not likely. But a ghost ship? That was ridiculous. She opened the Google page on her computer, and typed, “The Flying Dutchman.” A row of links rolled over her screen. ‘Sailing school The Flying Dutchman, news and information about sailing.’ ‘Beach Hotel The Flying Dutchman, specialized in wedding celebrations. Bridal suite with Jacuzzi and champagne.’ A stitch of pain slammed through Kelly’s heart. If Ron hadn’t left her, she would have been a bride very soon.... Forcing her eyes back to the computer screen she read on. ‘The Flying Dutchman: a slogan written on planes of KLM, the Royal Dutch Airlines.’ ‘Legend of The Flying Dutchman.’ Her heart hammering inside her throat Kelly opened the link. ‘The Flying Dutchman is a ghost ship that can never go home, but must wander the ocean forever. The ship is usually spotted from afar, sometimes glowing with ghostly reddish light.’ Kelly pressed her fingers to her lips. Ghostly reddish light? She’d seen a reddish light before walking into the sea. But that had been the sunset, right? ‘If The Flying Dutchman is hailed by another ship, her crew will often try to send messages to people long since dead.’ With a growing uneasiness Kelly stared at the lines, then blinked and read on. ‘The 17th century Dutch captain James Henderson was renowned for the uncanny speed of his trips from Holland to Batavia. One day, when the ship was ready to sail for the East Indies again, a heavy storm raged over the waters. Everybody assumed the proud three master would stay in Amsterdam, but skipper Henderson ordered to set the sails and weigh anchor. “But skipper,” the bosun said, “this storm is dangerous. We’d better....” “We’re gonna sail,” the skipper replied, “I won’t allow the wind to bully me!” Again, the bosun tried to persuade his stubborn skipper to stay in the safety of the harbor, but James Henderson rushed to the bridge and cried out: “I will round Cape of Good Hope even if it takes until Doomsday to get there.” All the bosun could do was bow for the skipper’s wishes. With flapping sails, the ship took off in the flying storm, and never came back. The presumptuous skipper and his crew were doomed to wander the ocean for ever.’ Her knees trembling, Kelly stood, walked to the table and poured herself a cup of
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strong coffee. Sipping from the sweet hot liquid, she returned to her laptop and sat down again. When she pressed a button to leave the Google page, her eyes caught another sentence. ‘Once every hundred years James Henderson sails back to Dutch waters to seek a woman whose love will save him from the curse.’ She snorted. It was a nice tale, but utter nonsense. James wasn’t a ghost. He had been very real. He was gorgeous, strong, and he had the most beautiful prick she’d ever seen. Hot desire whirled through her veins and for a moment it was as if she could still feel his lips on her skin. The thought made her shiver. James was a real man. No doubt about that. So, the ship she had boarded was probably foreign. That was why the woman from the Party Ship firm hadn’t heard of it. Kelly nodded slowly. Yes, the boat made the perfect setting for a special wedding, or an historical movie. James was an actor, sticking to his role. Yes, that was the only solid explanation. She finished her coffee and smiled. They was no need to go on fussing about James and his ship. Tomorrow, she would get the answers to her all her questions. She shut down her computer, leaned back in her chair and licked her lips in a longing anticipation. She liked James! She couldn’t wait to see him again. Him and his gorgeous hard prick.... Pressing her lips together she stood, walked to her red suitcase, and took out a small blue box with shiny golden characters on the top side. ‘Cloud Nine, the fabulous rotating spiraled shaft vibrator!’ the characters shouted. She picked the soft supple jelly prick from the box, and returned to her chair. Looking around to make sure no one could watch her, she lowered her pants, pressed the vibrator to her panties and turned it on. A soft buzzing sound filled the room and Kelly moaned in pleasure. Cloud Nine was just great. “James is touching me,” she whispered to herself, closing her eyes. “His fingers are masturbating my clit.” Heaving a big moaning sigh, she softly moved Cloud Nine up and down. “Go on, James. Make me hot.” Her fingers moved to her panties. “James orders me to undress, he wants to see my pussy.” In a hurry she pulled her panties down and opened her legs widely. Pressing the vibrator to her swollen clit, she groaned. “Look James, look at my swollen pussy. I want you to touch me ... open me ... finger me.” Her fingers opened her lips, and with a short hard move she thrust them inside her wet yearning pussy. “Go on, please go on. This is just great.” Pulling her fingers out, she slid Cloud Nine smoothly along her folds, moving up and
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down, back and forth. “Open me James. I want to feel your hard prick.” Panting, she softly pushed the vibrator between her longing nether lips, pressing it deeper and deeper. “Yes, take me. Fuck me with your big hard prick.” Her fingers moved up to her clit, and rubbing over the swollen little pea, she pushed the vibrator in and out in the same passionate rhythm. “You make me so ... hot,” she gasped. “This is so ... wonderful, so ... great. You make me come. Oh yes. Yes. You make me come.” As a terrific flow of passion overwhelmed her, all her muscles tightened and for a moment there was only lust. An enormous marvelous pleasure. She moaned loudly, then relaxed. “I wish he were here,” she wailed, turning the vibrator off. “I want more. I want a real hard prick.” She took Cloud Nine to the bathroom and washed it with soft soap and water. After carefully drying it, she put it back into the box. She longed for James. But all she could do was wait. Just one lonely night to go. **** Next evening Kelly walked to Ron’s place to pick up her Victorian wedding gown. No matter who skipper James Henderson really was, she didn’t want to meet him wearing a pair of trousers. Blue jeans would be totally out of place in the 17th century setting of the ship. Moreover, the dress concealed her elephant’s butt. She found the house empty, walked up the stairs, and opened the cupboard to pick out her wedding dress. Huh? She sniffed. What was that smell? Fish? Did the dress stink of fish? But how on earth.... When she pulled the soft fabric out of the cupboard something grey fell to the ground. A fish. A silver grey fish that obviously had gotten entangled in one of the pleats. It stunk! Good grief. If Ron found out he’d be so angry. Ron hated fish. The smell made him sick. Kelly sank on the bed that had been their most intimate playground for so long. The same bed where he’d screwed that terrible Elsa. Ron hated fish. But she had nothing to do with Ron anymore. Ron had exchanged her for that bitch. She hated Ron! And Elsa for that matter. Hmm. What if.... She rushed down the stairs, helped herself to a pair of scissors, a small needle and a piece of thread, and hurried back to the bedroom. She used the scissors to carefully unstitch the hems of the orange and blue curtains, cut the fish into small pieces and stuffed them into the openings. After that she sewed up the seam with precise little stitches, making sure the curtains looked as they had always done. Next, she unzipped the mattress cover, stuffed the rest of the fish between the metal spiral springs and made the bed. So, that would teach the bastard! In no time this room would stink like a fish market on
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a sunny day. A naughty spark flashed in her eyes. Too bad she wouldn’t be here to see Ron’s face when he discovered the smell. She took her wedding gown down the stairs, sprinkled the pleats with fresh water and a soap solution, then carefully ironed the precious fabric. When the dress was spic-and-span again, she put it on and left the house. Still grinning, she headed for the sea shore. **** When Kelly reached the deserted beach, the sinking sun had covered the sea with a glowing deep red shine, but there was no sign of The Flying Dutchman. She sank down on a yellow sandy hill, and deeply inhaling the fresh salty air, she searched the water with narrowed eyes. Where was James? Where was the ship? Was he coming to the beach to get her, or was she supposed to walk into the water like she had done two days ago? She rubbed over her nose. The thought wasn’t very attractive. It had cost her so much time to model her hair, not to mention ironing her dress. She didn’t want to meet James looking like a drowned cat again. A sudden twinkle highlighted the softly rolling waves. Did she see that right? Was a life boat approaching? Yes, it was definitely a rowing boat. James was coming. He’d kept his promise. Of course he had! A lascivious desire slammed through her belly when she spotted his well-built silhouette standing on the forecastle of the little boat. She got to her feet as quickly as she possibly managed in her long dress, and rushed to the shore line, her high heels leaving footmarks behind in the wet sand. She reached the sea at the moment James disembarked, and she stood, breathing hard. “Mejoffre,” he said, taking her hand and kissing her fingertips, “I’m happy you came to see me.” His brown eyes glided over her appearance in a breathtaking manner and it was obvious he admired the view. “You’re a beautiful woman,” he said. “Thank you. You look pretty gorgeous yourself.” “With your permission I’ll return to the ship now, Skipper,” the bosun’s voice toned behind them. “Do you want us to pick you up at the usual time?” James nodded. “That’s okay,” he said. He nodded at the bosun and the sailors on the boat, then turned to the rest of his crew who were standing in a separate little group. “You can go on shore leave now. Don’t get drunk and be back on time. Or else....” His commanding gaze went over his men, and Kelly noticed that they all lowered their heads and didn’t dare look at him. “Well....” James coughed. “You all know very well what will happen if you’re late.” It sounded threatening and the men bent their heads even lower. “Yes skipper,” they mumbled as if they were a bunch of schoolboys being reprimanded by the headmaster himself. “Off you go then,” James barked. “Enjoy yourselves.” “Thank you, Skipper. God bless you.”
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“Bless you, my boys.” James followed his crew with his eyes, then turned his head to Kelly. “Mejoffre....” The commanding tone had vanished and he sounded as if he tried to caress her with his voice. “Shall we go for a walk along the beach?” A walk? Was that all he had in mind? She wanted more! “Let’s take the rowing boat to the ship. I want to make love to you.” He didn’t answer and Kelly added. “You promised me.” He smiled. “I did. But we’re not going to The Flying Dutchman. You would be stu-” Her head tilted she looked at him. “I would be what?” He shrugged. “Nothing. We can make love in the dunes.” “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I didn’t bring a blanket to lay down.” “I did.” James beckoned the bosun, who obviously knew without words what his captain wanted. The bosun grabbed inside the boat and rushed to his skipper carrying a grey woolen blanket. James took the blanket and pushing it under his arm, he said, “Come, little lady. Let’s go for a walk.” “Okay.” She slid her arm into the crook of his elbow and together they walked alongside the shore. “Tell me about your ship, James? Is it meant for parties, or do you carry out tax free buying trips for some company?” He stood and looked at her. “It’s a freighter, remember?” She swallowed. “You mean you’ve really loaded cargo for the East Indies?” He nodded. “Of course.” “Are you an actor?” He gave her a very strange look. It was clear he didn’t understand what she was trying to point out. “I’m a skipper, Kelly.” “Okay, you’re a skipper. Um....” she hesitated. “Do you know what year it is?” He grinned. “You think I’m a lunatic, right? It’s 2006.” 2006. She sighed in relief. He couldn’t be a ghost. He would have mentioned a complete other, much earlier, year. Well, she figured she’d find out who he really was soon enough. “I know a nice deserted spot,” she said, “come with me.” She led him to a cosy dip in the dunes that was surrounded by thorny sea buckthorn shrubs, little red roses and blooming beach grass. James looked around, a concerned look on his face. “Is it safe here? There’s only one entrance. If someone comes, we’re stuck.” “Of course it’s safe. I’ve been here before.” She stopped talking. She’d been here with Ron. Many times. And no one had ever disturbed them. He coughed. “There might be pirates around.” She stared at him. “Pirates?” Good grief. There was no reason for doubt anymore. James was partaker in a living history play. And she was part of it too. My! This was so exciting! She loved acting!
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“Algerian pirates,” James added. “Of course. Algerians. They are the most dangerous of all buccaneers, right?” He nodded. “We’d better find us another place.” She grabbed his hand. “No, this is Holland, James. Algerian pirates don’t know the way in the dunes.” She nestled herself into his arms, her mouth searching for his warm lips, her hands wandering about his body until she found the soft bulge in his pants. It immediately hardened under her skilled fingers. “Take your pants off, James. I wanna give you head.” He hesitated for a moment, than untied his trousers and lowered them. His wonderful big hard cock came in sight. “Oh, you look so gorgeous.” She sighed in anticipation. “Let me taste you.” She sank on her knees in front of him, and kissing his shaft she moved her lips upwards to the swollen head, licking the tip, savoring the small drip that seeped out as if it were Champagne. He tasted like heaven, and moaning she softly pulled the warm head into her mouth. He moaned in return as her lips went up and down, moistening him, encircling him with her tongue. “Let’s lie down,” he whispered, panting hard. “I wanna eat you too.” She let go of his penis as he spread out the blanket over the beach grass and helped her lie down next to him, her head close to his hard prick. Pulling up her long skirt, he opened her legs and rested his head on her inner thigh, his mouth very near her yearning wet lips. She could feel his warm breathing on her sensitive skin. His hand caressed her butt. “You have the most wonderful round buttocks,” he stated, admiration in his voice. He slipped his tongue between her lips, and Kelly’s body arched with lust. This was heaven. She’d been waiting for this wonderful feeling for so long! Moving his tongue softly in and out her wetness, he used his thumb to softly caress her swollen little pea. Groaning, she closed her hand around his hard prick, and squeezing it softly, she pulled it into her mouth again, savoring him, enjoying his wonderful male taste. “Can you put your fingers in, and give it to me?” she whispered. He blew a soft kiss onto her lips, opened them wider and pressed a finger inside her. “That’s too little,” she gasped, kissing his shaft, “Give me more.” Without a word he pulled the finger out, then three hard fingers entered her. “I wanna feel you come,” he whispered. His skilled fingers found her G-spot, petting it, making little circles deeply inside her. “Come for me, my sweetheart.” His tongue found her clit, and licking it with soft little moves, he continued massaging her G-spot. An enormous urge to pee overwhelmed Kelly, but it lasted for a few seconds only, then it was replaced by a gigantic lust. “Come for me, my love. Let me feel you come....” his wonderful dark male voice begged her. Kelley couldn’t resist the sweet torture any longer. Waves of earth-shattering pleasure
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washed over her. Squeezing his dick hard, she cried out in enormous pleasure. He turned over, and taking her face into his hands, he kissed her heated cheek. “You’re so special,” he groaned. “May the Lord forgive me. I fell in love with you.” A wonderful feeling of happiness mixed with a sudden knowing came over her. He loved her. Well, she loved him too! It was strange though. She’d met him only a few days ago, and it felt as if she knew him for ages. He was sweet and reliable. He would never break a given word, like Ron had done so easily. James would never cheat her, nor replace her for another woman just a week before they were going to be married. And he would never say she had an elephant’s butt. On the contrary, he liked her round curves. She smiled at him. “I fell in love with you too. Kiss me.” He kissed her. A soft and tender kiss filled with passion, that made her crave for more. “I long for your hard prick, James. Fuck me. Make me come again.” He heaved an audible sigh. ”I can’t penetrate you, my love. I would ruin your life.” “Ruin my life? How on earth can you ruin my life by ...?” She grabbed his prick. “By making love to me?” “It can’t be,” he repeated. “We live in different worlds.” She blinked in surprise. “What do you mean different worlds? He kissed her cheek again, then shrugged. “I can’t do this to you. You deserve a better guy.” “A better guy?” she asked, astonishment dripping from her voice. “I long for you, James. Only you.” “I long for you too, Kelly. But it’s not wise.” His eyes held hers. “Will you suck my prick?” “Sure. If you’ll promise to save a bit of energy to please me after that.” “Suck me.” “Promise me,” she returned. “I can’t promise you. Just be happy with the things I can give without destroying you.” She sat straight, looking at him in growing disbelief. What on earth was he talking about? Was he sick perhaps? Suffering from some contagious venereal infection? No, he couldn’t be. His prick looked healthy enough. Or was this all part of the game they were in? “James, I think....” she began. “THERE HE IS! GET THE BASTARD!” a rude voice shouted, and all of a sudden the air was filled with loud threatening outcries. “Darn! The Algerians!” Screaming, James jumped to his feet, pulling up his trousers in the move, grabbing for his glittering sword. “Get up, stand behind me,” he barked. Completely stunned, Kelly scrambled up, staring at the sinister strangely dressed men that stormed their hiding place. They looked exactly like the traditional pirates in fairy-tale books. There was a big fellow with a wooden leg and a small guy wearing an eyepatch. This was a fun play! And James was a true hero. Jumping in front of her, fighting like
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Superman himself. He.... One of the intruders managed to pass James, and before Kelly could do anything to protect herself, the man fetched her an enormous blow. The smack hit her temple, and Kelly winced as blackness overwhelmed her. Moaning softly she tumbled down. **** It was dusky in the cosy dip in the yellow dunes when Kelly came to herself. In the ink black sky high above her head little stars twinkled, and a crescent moon tried to shatter a hesitating light over the beach. Blinking Kelly looked around, but she didn’t see anyone. “James! James, where are you?” But the whispering sounds of rolling waves gently breaking on the shore were all the reply she got. Carefully rubbing her burning temple she discovered the bump. Good grief, those living history actors had taken it too far. Dressing up like pirates was one thing, but knocking people down wasn’t fun at all. My, she had a headache. And where was James? Had he gone after them? Or ... was he taken prisoner perhaps? Oh nonsense. Those lunatics would have captured her too, right? Or ... maybe they’d left her behind because she wasn’t part of the game? She touched the painful bump on her temple again. “Stupid bunch of idiots,” she mumbled to herself, stumbling to her feet. She’d better try to find James, and ask him what this was all about. She clambered out of the dip and walked over the dark deserted beach. Sparkling moonbeams glittered on the rippling surface of the sea, and a soft warm breeze carried the scent of salty water mixed with rotting fish. Far away near the horizon was the silhouette of a proud three master heading for the ocean. A nasty cramp flashed through her heart. The Flying Dutchman had set sail to the East Indies. James had left without even saying goodbye. She’d never see him again. She blinked, trying to hold back the tears that burned behind her eyelids. There must be something terribly wrong with her. For some unknown reason she seemed to scare off the men she loved. Only two days ago Ron had replaced her by that horrible Elsa, and now James was clearing off too. Elsa had been right. She, Kelly, was a loser with a rhino butt. She cast a last mournful glance at the disappearing ship, took a deep steadying breath, then resolutely turned her back to the sea. She was going to her shabby hotel to have a good night’s sleep and tomorrow she’d return to school and pick up her job as a teacher as if nothing had happened. She straightened her shoulders in a belligerent way. She’d bravely face the pitying glances her colleagues would give her. It was not her fault that Ron had left her. Ron was to blame. He was the jerk. Not she. And maybe it was a true disaster she was gonna wind up an old maid, but many women were alone. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all.
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Climbing over a sand dune she muttered to herself, “You can handle this, Kelly. You’re a strong woman. If someone tries to make fun of you, you’re gonna strike back.” Out of the blue a dark shadow jumped in front of her. Startled, Kelly jumped backwards. Help! She was being attacked again! Fear tried to creep up her spine, but clenching her fists she pushed the feeling away. She was not going to let anyone beat her by surprise again. She’d give that bastard a punch before he even.... “Mejoffre!” a well-known voice interrupted her resolute intentions. “Help us, please.” Kelly’s raised fist stiffened in the move. Huh? Was that the ship’s boy? What was he doing here while his ship was sailing out? “What are you doing here, sailor?” she asked. “The Flying Dutchman is....” “Please Mejoffre!” the ship’s boy replied, plain horror in his voice. “You must help us get aboard before it’s too late. We’ll go straight to hell if the ship sails without us.” “Us?” Kelly muttered in confusion. “Skipper and I, Mejoffre. Please, help us!” There was a soft rustling near the dark bushes alongside the sandy path. “Leave Mejoffre alone,” a commanding familiar voice toned. Kelly’s heart jumped up for joy. James! That was James! “James! I thought you’d left without a salute.” “I’d never do such a cowardly thing. But you’d better go home, Kelly. I don’t want you to die.” “Die?” she mumbled. “She must help us!” the ship’s boy cried out in obvious desperation. “I don’t wanna burn for ever!” “I told you to go aboard when you still had the time,” James replied. “I’m not gonna let my Skipper down,” the ship’s boy exclaimed in agony. “Mejoffre must help us. We gotta hurry!” “Of course I’ll help. What can I do?” Kelly asked. “Skipper’s sprained his ankle. We must get him to the shore at once.” “Okay. Let’s go.” Kelly took James’s hand while the ship’s boy grabbed the other, and wrestling through the loose sand the three of them headed for the shoreline. “No Kelly, don’t do this,” James protested, panting hard. “This is dangerous for you!” “Oh, you think I’m a coward, right? That I will let you die? I love you, James.” “I love you too, Kelly! That’s why... Oh!” “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” “It’s my shoulder. I ran into a sword. And so did Peter.” “Peter? Who’s Peter?” “That’s me,” the ship’s boy chimed in. “We’ve only got one sound arm each to row the boat. That’s not enough.” “I’ll help rowing the boat,” Kelly promised. “If you tell me what this is all about.” “This is about everything going wrong,” Peter wailed. “Devil’s sent the Algerians to keep us ashore. If The Flying Dutchman sails without us, Devil’s gonna take our souls and we’ll burn in hell for ever.”
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“Why?” “Because we’re doomed! That’s why!” “Doomed?” “I sailed out in a storm,” James explained. “An act of pride and arrogance. I was a presumptuous jerk to endanger the lives of my crew.” “Devil’s punished us all,” Peter added. “We must wander the ocean till Judgement Day.” A weird sensation flashed through Kelly’s stomach. Was she walking here with two ... ghosts? No, that was ridiculous. These men weren’t made of air. She was holding a living creature. He was warm and she could hear both men pant. No, this was all just a game! A living history play! Or.... “I um ... I read this legend,” she stuttered. “About a ghost ship that was likewise called The Flying Dutchman. That boat sailed out in a storm also. All that happened in the 17th century though.” “That’s us,” Peter said. Kelly stood. “That can’t be!” she cried out. “You’re living breathing people. Not ghosts! Ghosts don’t exist.” “We’re living dead men, Kelly,” James replied, concern in his voice. “That’s why you’d better go home. You’ll be a living dead too if you stay with us.” “Oh nonsense! I don’t believe in ghosts, nor in living dead people for that matter.” She beckoned to a dark shadow in front of them. “There’s the rowing boat. And I can still see The Flying Dutchman over there near the skyline. Let’s try catch up with her.” “You’d better not come with us,” James protested again, but Kelly didn’t want to listen. She was having her fill of this rubbish! Ghosts and living dead people, of all things! What were they thinking? That she believed in legends and fairy tales? She was not a toddler anymore. With joined forces they pushed the boat into the water as far as they could, and when they lost ground beneath their feet, they scrambled in. James and Peter sank down close together on a wooden bench in the middle of the boat, each grabbing one of the oars with their sound arms. Kelly took a seat in front of them and started tugging at the oars. She had rowed only once before, on a quiet pond in Disneyland. That had been much fun, but trying to conquer the beating waves of a turbulent sea was quite another matter. It was a hell of a job. They rowed as if bloodthirsty sharks were after them, struggling, panting, sweating, moaning.... But they didn’t make much progress as the water persistently tried to push them back to the shore. And the sea was much stronger than two wounded men and a girl. “It’s no use,” Kelly panted. “We’ll never make it.” “We must! Just a few inches more and we’ll be out of the surf,” James shouted. Puffing hard, Kelly continued rowing. Her shoulders and upper arms hurt, the muscles of her belly cramped and at the inside of her palms growing blisters burned. “I don’t think we’ll....” she protested, but ship’s boy Peter interrupted her. “Devil’s trying to hold us back!” he exclaimed in agony. “You must row!”
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“He’s right, Kelly,” James said. “Just a few inches more. A few inches!” Kelly inhaled deeply, in a vain attempt to stop her heartbeat from hammering at the inside of her throat. Inches? ‘Inches’ he said? ‘Miles’ seemed a better word. “Once we’re out of the surf the water will help us,” James panted. Kelly sniffed. The sea was no help at all. The waves splattered salty showers all over her, and it wouldn’t take much more to get her completely soaked. A strong roller tried to slap the oars from her grip and Kelly clasped the handles even more tightly. Then, when she least expected it, the struggle was over. The water took a firm grip on the small boat, dragging it to the wide ocean. The vague silhouette of the proud three master against the ink black sky got larger and larger, until they had a clear view on the ship. “Ship ahoy!” Peter yelled. “Ship ahoy!” “It’s the skipper,” loud excited voices shouted. “He made it! Help him aboard.” A rough wet rope landed on Kelly’s lap, and it was followed by a rope ladder. “Climb it Kelly. Get aboard.” For a moment Kelly hesitated. What if James had been right about ghosts and living dead? Was she climbing up to some grave yard? Heading for her tomb? Oh, what the heck! There was no way back. Her fingers seized the ladder and taking a deep breath she clambered up. Helpful hands pulled her aboard and exhausted Kelly sank down on the deck, resting her back against one of the thick masts. My goodness! She needed a shower. But would she find any on a 17th century ship? Not likely. Unless of course, this was a luxurious party ship after all. She looked around, suddenly aware of the excitedly whispering sailors. “She came voluntarily, didn’t she?” “Yep, it’s unbelievable, it might be over soon.” “Let’s hope for the best.” Kelly picked a handkerchief from her cleavage and blew her nose. What was the fuss about? Were they talking about her? What would soon be over? Their lives? No, she didn’t think so. The sailors looked happy, not desperate. “Set the sails!” James’s voice barked over the crowded deck, “On to Batavia!” **** Half an hour later Kelly was sitting on a wooden chair in the captain’s cabin, next to the bunk bed James was lying in. She’d tried to freshen up in a small passenger’s cabin the bosun had shown her, but she’d found out right away, there were no showers on the boat. And the ‘bathroom’ was a small elongated compartment at the side of the forecastle. Inside was a small wooden bench with a round wooden lid on it. When she lifted the lid she could spot the sea below. It was the most primitive privy she’d ever set eyes on. And when she used it cold sea water splashed against her butt. “This ship is an authentic copy of a real 17th century ship, right?” she asked. James pressed his lips together. “No copy, honey. This is the real stuff. I wish you
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hadn’t come with us.” She smiled. “In that case you wouldn’t be here, James. Without me you’d never have made it to the ship.” “True, but you’re stuck now, my sweetheart. You’ll have to stay here forever.” “I don’t mind being with you forever,” she replied. He licked his lips. “Your family will miss you.” “I don’t have any family.” She shrugged. “That’s to say, my Grandma’s still alive, but she’s in a Nursing Home. She doesn’t recognize me anymore.” “But you’ve got friends.” She nodded. “Yes, I’ve got friends and colleagues at work, but you’re more important to me than they are.” She bent over and kissed his cheek. “Do you feel any better now?” “Yes, I do. The ship's doctor has perfectly bandaged my ankle and shoulder. I think I’ll get up now and take over command of the ship again.” “You feel that good, hey? In that case... Why didn’t you want to penetrate me, out there on the beach? What was all that talking about ruining my life about?” He cleared his throat. “About this,” he said, gesturing with his hand around the cabin. “About being stuck with me forever.” “You’re not suffering from an unpleasant venereal disease or something like that?” “No, of course not. I’m healthy.” “I long for you,” she said. “I love you.” “I love you too, Kelly.” “Great. Let’s make love.” “But I’m useless. I can’t rest on my elbows now.” She smiled in a naughty way. “You can lie on your back, right?” “Well yes, but....” “No ‘but’. You stay down, I’ll do the job.” He stared at her. “You mean you’re going to be on top of me?” “Yep.” “But I’ve never done it that way. A man should be in control.” She grinned, caressing his cheek. “That’s just an out-of-date 17th century thought. This is 2006.” With quick eager moves she stripped all her clothes, then did the same with him, making sure she didn’t touch his sore spots. “I don’t think....” he began, but she bent over and kissed his swollen penis. “You may think otherwise James, but the hard gentleman over here, is really excited with the idea of a soft pussy lowering itself onto him.” She climbed over him and placing her knees at his sides, she grabbed his hard erected dick, and softly rubbed the soft lilac head against her wet lower lips, moving it up and down, touching her clit. “I long for you,” she whispered, “you make me so hot.” Opening her yearning lips with her fingers, she sank down on top of him, sliding his prick between her lips, moving up and down, allowing him to penetrate her deeper and deeper with every move she made. When her pussy had taken him completely she began riding him as if she were on
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horseback. James groaned in lust. Lifting his hips, he took her waist in an iron grip, and thrust his hard cock even deeper into her. She cried out in ecstasy, and shoving back and forth, she bent over to kiss him. When her tongue met his lips, he opened his mouth, and she slipped her tongue inside, searching for his, carefully biting him as soon as they met. His strong arms glided to her back, holding her tight, as if he would never let her go again. “I love you so much,” he panted, out of breath. “I love you too. I feel so wonderful. You make me feel so special.” He groaned loudly, and whispering again that he loved her so much, he grabbed her hips once more, pulling her closer than ever, fucking her with all his strength. “Will you marry me?” he asked, gasping for air, and simultaneously she felt the rhythmic spasms of his release deeply inside her. He asked her to be his wife while he was coming! He truly loved her! A gigantic almost unbearable feeling of love and lust overwhelmed her. “Yes!” she screamed in ecstasy, collapsing over him, kissing his face, nibbling on his lips. “Yes, I want to marry you.” A terrible shock slammed through the ship and from one moment to the other it lay still, silently rocking on the beating waves. “We crashed!” James cried out. He gave her a quick loving kiss and rolling over, he made her slide from his body. “They need me on the bridge. Get dressed, my love. If we make water, we’ll sink.” He grabbed his clothes, put them on in a hurry and limped to the door. When he threw it open, a loudly panting bosun came in sight. It was obvious he had run to his Captain to give an account of the situation. As quick as lightning, Kelly grabbed her dress and covered her nakedness. “All’s well, Skipper,” the bosun announced, breathing hard. “We just stopped, we didn’t crash. There’s only water around. No hidden reefs.” “We just stopped? How can that be? I can hear the wind blowing into the sails. There must be an explanation for this strange phenomenon.” James stood very still and it was as if he listened carefully. “We’re turning round,” he said, alarm in his voice. “The ship’s turning round. Someone’s changing our course!” He cast a quick glance at Kelly. “Follow me to the bridge. Hurry!” “But my clothes....” she protested. “Put them on. I don’t wanna leave you now. If we have to die, we’ll die together.” She hastily put on her dress, and rushed to the door. “You think we’re in danger?” she asked. “I don’t know. We’ll soon find out. Come.” They hurried to the bridge, James limping as fast as he could on his sore ankle. There was a loudly whispering and vehemently gesturing group of excited sailors gathering around the huge brown helm, but they immediately stepped aside to let the skipper pass. James stood as if bitten by scorpion, staring at the helm that was moving without
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anyone steering it, forcing the ship to turn around. “We’re bewitched, the ship’s bewitched!” the bosun cried out. “We’re gonna end up in hell!” James looked up at the sails, and when Kelly followed his glance she noticed they were swollen. But the wind was blowing from a complete different direction, and all The Flying Dutchman did was turning around. How could that be? This wasn’t normal, right? When the proud three master had turned around completely, the helm stopped moving, and with a sudden shock the ship sped away, straight against the heavily blowing wind. Grabbing a mast, Kelly managed to stay upright, but several sailors lost balance and tumbled down. “What’s happening?” the bosun screamed. “This can’t be. We’re sailing against the wind!” “We’re headed for the Dutch coast again,” James replied, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I’ll see what I can do.” He limped to the helm, and taking the wheel in an iron grip, he tried to turn it. Kelly saw his strong muscles tighten as little drops of sweat dripped from his forehead, but the steering wheel didn’t move one inch. The bosun rushed to his captain, and tugging at the helm, he loudly ordered other sailors to come and help too, but it was all in vain. James took his hands from the helm, gesturing to his crew to let go also. “This helm’s stuck,” he concluded, “we can’t move it, not even with ten horses we can.” The bosun sank on his knees, studying the wheel, desperately searching for an unnoticed obstruction, but he found nothing unusual. James heaved a big sigh, and pulling Kelly close he said, “All we can do is wait and see where the wind’s blowing us.” “The wind’s not blowing us! We’re headed against it! We’re bewitched!” the bosun screamed. “Stop wailing like a spoiled toddler!” James barked. “I’ll have you scrub the deck if you don’t shut up!” James limped to the forecastle, and grabbing the railing he looked out over the ocean. “We’re approaching the Dutch coastline.” James pointed at the shore. “Far south lies the city of The Hague and the Amsterdam harbor is just around the corner.” With narrowed eyes Kelly studied the shoreline. Beach, dunes and behind that: blue sky. No sign of any buildings. Huh? “This part of the Netherlands is known for its heavy steel industry,” she whispered in confusion. “You should be able to see the blast furnaces from here.” James put his sound arm around her waist. “This is the usual coastline, my sweetheart.” “No, it isn’t. When I sailed to London, you could see the skyscrapers from far away. We must be somewhere else. Near Belgium perhaps, or the French coast.” “This is the normal Dutch coastline, Kelly.” An ice cold shiver crept up Kelly’s spine. “But I’m sure....”
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He kissed her cheek. “We’ll be in Amsterdam soon. You’ll see for yourself.” “Skipper,” the bosun’s voice toned behind them, “Something weird happened to our cargo.” James turned his head. “What’s up?” “It’s all East Indies stuff, Skipper. But we unloaded those goods yesterday.” “I’ll have a look.” James limped down the stairs, and Kelly followed him downwards until they reached the hold of the ship. The dusky space was filled up with wooden brown chests, barrels, burlap sacks with spices and numerous piles of precious batik textiles. The heavy scent of cloves, tea and nutmeg lingered in the space. “That looks like our normal return cargo,” James said. “But Skipper, we didn’t load it!” James shrugged. “We didn’t set sail to Amsterdam either. We’ll find out what this is all about soon enough.” As if in reply a loud roaring and screaming set in somewhere above their heads. But Kelly could only catch fragments of what was shouted. “Curse ... At last! ... Amsterdam ... Mom....” Without a word the bosun turned and hurried up the steep stairs. James gazed at Kelly, a weird look in his eyes. “What are they shouting? Do you get it?” She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Let’s go find out.” Kelly helped James climb the stairs. On the upper deck the sun was shining brightly and for a moment Kelly shut her eyes in the sudden blazing light. Blinking, she looked over the railing. They were sailing into a harbor that looked familiar and unknown at the same time. Amsterdam? But that couldn’t be. It looked so ... different. All of a sudden she recognized the familiar silhouette of the Saint Nicolas church, and next she noticed they were headed for the famous Weeping Tower, where in long forgotten times crying women had prayed for a safe return of their beloved sons and husbands when their ships sailed out to the Indies. Kelly swallowed. This was Amsterdam. No doubt about that. But where was the railway station? Where were the buses and streetcars? Where was the normal stink of exhaust and diesel oil that she always smelled when she took the ferry to cross the water? And now she mentioned it, there was no sign of the ferry, or the familiar canal cruise ships loaded with tourists either. The Flying Dutchman reduced speed, and stopped alongside the quay. Kelly slipped her fingers into her mouth, and sucking on them she stared at the swarming crowd on the narrow wharf. They were all dressed up in historical costumes. Men, women and children. “The Flying Dutchman is back home at last,” a young woman shouted, jumping up and down in excitement. “Peter! Peter, are you still alive?” “You bet I am, Sarah!” the ship’s boy shouted. He helped the crew drop anchor and tie up the boat, then rushed over the gangplank to hug the girl.
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“Mother!” the bosun cried out and he sped to an elderly lady in a black dress. “My son! My son’s back! My prayers are heard!” the woman screamed, and Kelly saw tears flowing over her pale face. What was happening here? Had she landed in the middle of a film set? Was this the scenery for a historical movie? Or.... No, it couldn’t be. She couldn’t have traveled in time! That was so impossible! It couldn’t be real! A warm strong arm slid around her shoulders. “The curse’s broken. We’re back home at last. Thanks to you, my love.” She gazed at him in surprise. “Me? I didn’t do anything.” “Yes, you did. You still do.” “Don’t speak in riddles, James. What do you mean?” “You’ve broken the curse by truly loving me.” “Oh, nonsense! I mean, I love you, but all this talking about curses, and living dead....” He silenced her with a kiss, then said, “I love you, Kelly. I will help you feel at home in my time.” “But this can’t be the 17th century!” she cried out in agony. “We humans can’t travel in time! That’s impossible. This must be a film set!” Smiling in a comforting way, James hugged her. “True love conquers everything, Kelly. Including the terrible harm that was brought about by my disgusting pride and arrogance.” “But James....” she muttered. “Come my love, let me show you my world.” **** It was three weeks later, and Kelly lay stretched out in a warm bath that was set up in the middle of a large splendidly furnished chamber. The high plastered ceiling was decorated by huge white flowers and exuberantly curling leaves. There were many different sea tableaux on the walls, next to expensive Flemish tapestries also picturing ancients ships sailing the ocean. In a corner stood a romantic four-poster bed. The huge fire place was astoundingly ornamented with expensive little Delft-blue tiles. Sun beams peeped through the beautifully colored stained-glass windows. Looking around Kelly heaved a happy sigh. In two hours she was going to marry the love of her life. James. Wow! In barely a month time her life had completely changed. She would never give any lessons again. Today, former middle school teacher Kelly Wilbers would transform into the respected wife of a famous and rich 17th century VOC captain. Okay, life was different here. No television, no radio, no computers.... And when she wanted to take a shower she had to ask the maid to pour water over her. But she wouldn’t miss those things, not even if she’d had a choice. Her current life was great! She loved James so much, and love was all that mattered in the world. There was a soft knocking on the door. Kelly pricked up her ears. Was it the maid perhaps, to bring a bucket of fresh hot water?
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“Who is it?” Kelly shouted. “It’s James, my love,” a familiar deep male voice answered. Kelly’s heart missed a beat. It was James! She loved him so much! He was so different from her former lover Ron. She’d never wanted Ron to join her in the shower. Ron said he loved her, but he’d always made unpleasant remarks about the size of her buttocks. James loved her butt, and he didn’t get tired of telling her how beautiful she was. “Come in, James,” she said. The door opened and the man she loved came in, freshly shaven, his hair still wet from the bath he’d just taken. He looked gorgeous in his tight wedding suit. James bolted the door, and rushed to the tub. When his eyes glided over her body, Kelly shivered in anticipation. It was as if he caressed her with his eyes. “I long for you, my beautiful sweetheart,” he said. “May I join you?” She took a deep breath, and chuckled. “Dressed like that?” Grinning in return, he took off his black velvet doublet. She bit on her lips. “We’ll be late for the wedding.” “They can’t have a wedding without the bridal couple,” he said with a naughty grin. Dropping all his clothes to the floor, he stepped into the bath. In the buff he looked even more fabulous! She loved his well-muscled chest with the cute tiny hairs on it, she adored his perfect shoulders. And there, in between his trim belly and his strong legs, was the part of him she admired most. “You have the most wonderful prick in the world,” she whispered, kissing the sultry head of his penis. Bending over, he kissed her hair. “Will you sit on my lap? I like it when you are on top.” She helped him sit down, then lowered herself over him, sliding her arms around the muscled nape of his neck, her soft folds embracing his hard cock. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest till her soft nipples touched his skin, his dick penetrating her as deep as he could. Her lips searched his and while their tongues started a passionate dance, they clung to each other as if they would never let go again. He started moving his hips, thrusting his prick into her, over and over again, and rocking back and forth, they were one body, united in strong passionate love. An enormous, almost unbearable feeling of love spread through Kelly’s entire being. “I love you so much,” she whispered. “And I love you,” he groaned. He pulled her even closer till she felt the rhythmic contractions of his orgasm deeply inside. A tremendous pleasure overwhelmed her, and she cried out in enormous passion. As the wonderful contractions slowly subsided, a sudden knowing flashed through Kelly’s brains. James would never cheat her. He’d love her, respect her, and cherish her. He was going to be the father of her children and they would live happily ever after....