"Dive" << Part One (somewhere off the N.E. coast of Australia) >> Their feral roar now quieted, twin plumes of steam drift upward from the engines' vents, sensuously enveloping your lithe, tanned body as you lash the sea anchor into place. I watch from the helm as the rising sun diffuses into a nimbus of flame about you, as you emerge from the mist and step down into the cabin. I secure the wheel, take another radio fix on our position (close enough...) and follow. (CLANG!!) Startled, I step quickly into the cabin, where you lie sprawled with your swimsuit bunched down around your waist, rubbing a bruised ankle and glaring alternately at my lopsided grin and the scuba tank resting on the floor at my feet, as if it had been knocked from its rack by a wayward foot. Or something. "God DAMN these cheap EnnZed suits! Who ever heard of a swimsuit that SHRINKS when it gets wet!?" I hadn't either, but I HAD been admiring the, er, interesting effect of a two-sizes-too-small swimsuit on you for several hours now. "Good thing you didn't kick the spear-gun rack, y'know? Relax - I'll help you get it off." Ha ha - well, dirty minds think alike, I guess, as you smile just a bit and your nipples erect at that last phrase. I sit beside you, and brush them very gently with my fingertips as I peel the suit over your waist and roll it off your trim rear, gradually revealing your smooth, barely-furred........gradually revealing your......... "Damn, this thing really DID shrink, didn't it!" After a few more tugs and yanks and "OUCH!"es, I finally grab a knife out of the rack and cut the elastic around your thighs, after which the suit slides easily. You lift your legs one at a time as I slip the suit off you, and leave them slightly parted, giving me just a glimpse of your now-moist pussy. "C'mere, you!" you say in a low, quiet voice. We sit up and embrace, and kiss, our tongues gently exploring each others' mouths in that familiar-but-always-new way. I string kisses down the side of your neck while you rake your nails in g entle circles up and down my back. I gently lay you down on the deck, and go down with you, continuing to kiss you and run my tongue past the hollow of your throat, down one breast to the nipple. I feel your sudden, sharp breath as I begin to caress it with lips and tongue; gently at first, but with increasing passion as my lust begins to build. I move to the other nipple, and you begin to tremble as I take it fully into my mouth and suck and nibble on it more and more vigorously. I hear you moan softly as you begin squeezing and kneading my deeply-tanned shoulders and back, while I work my hand in between your legs and run a fingertip gently along your pussy, working the juice up from below to further moisten your swelling clit. All at once I slide down, lift your legs nearly up to your breasts, and bury my face in your sweet box. The moans quicky change to gasps and deep, rapid breaths as I flick my tongue up and down along the sides of your clit. I feel your hands clutching my hair, drawing me even further inward as your hips begin to move and thrust, matching my rhythm as I slip two fingers inside and begin working them in firm but gentle circles. A minute of this and your breath suddenly catches; your body arches skyward as I lock my arms around your thighs to ride the crest of the wave, and a throaty cry, almost a scream, accompanies your orgasm. A sudden, sharp twitch of your hips signals "Enough!", and I roll off and pillow my head against your breasts, holding you while feeling the dying tremors roll through your body, and hearing your deep, slightly-trembling breaths gradually subside. We rest for a couple of minutes, then with a burst of strength that surprises both of us you throw me over onto my back and climb on, doing your very best to drive your tongue down my throat as you pull my swimsuit off one-handed. With a bit of help. Your face leaves my sight for a moment and suddently I gasp, more in surprise than pain, as you deliver a sharp nip to my left nipple. I feel a tingling wave of pleasure spread throughout my body as you nibble and suck the other one, very much as I did for you. It tickles, but it's pleasant as well. One hand is on my shoulder, the other one firmly stroking my cock, which has been hard ever since I pulled off your suit, and is now growing even harder under this gentle persuation. One more of those incredibly-deep kisses, and you work your way down, running your tongue down my chest, around the edge of my navel, down and around my balls, up the underside of my cock and over, as you take it deeply into your mouth and begin firmly sucking it in your own special rhythm. I feel a hand between my thighs, then a finger gently probing my ass -- just enough for me to know it's there; more pressure than penetration. I reach around and caress the back of your neck, then your breasts, then your pussy, which is just starting to become wet once again. I'm beginning to wonder how just long I can last with all this expert attention, when you pause for a moment to catch your breath. I take your shoulders and gently roll you on your back, bending you nearly double with your calves against my shoulders, and bend way down to kiss you once again as I get inside you. Your back arches as we begin to pick up the rhythm; at first slowly, deeply, firmly; but quickly picking up to a rowdier pace. Your hands squeeze my biceps more and more tightly as we both arch further and our eyes close in ecstacy. I realize I can't hold back any longer, and it's that very moment that you flush and your hips pound out of control against mine as a strangled cry is torn from your throat. I lose control and your legs slip out from between us, our bodies slapping together in a full embrace as I force every inch of my cock into you and erupt, adding my cry to yours as your nails dig into my back and I drive even more deeply into you, if that is possible. A timeless moment, and we relax, sweat slippery between us; kissing more gently now as we move slowly against each other for a few minutes, both of us feeling me gradually grow soft inside of you. We seperate, and go for a quick swim. We climb back into the boat, dry each other off, and return below-deck to suit up for our dive. << Part Two >> "DAMN this thing!!" As with the other twenty-six times (in the last ten minutes) that I'd heard this, I look over to where you lie on the deck, half-in and half-out of your wetsuit, struggling to get the half-out part in. A hint of a smile. "No excuse this time - wetsuits don't shrink." I hear you mutter "...are you saying that I GREW or something?" as you continue stuffing yourself into the suit. I pull my own wetsuit from the locker and begin suiting-up, idly speculating on whether that zipper will ever make it past your chest. It doesn't look promising - rubber only stretches so far, after all. I set my own gear back down. "Here, let me help." You push my hands away. "To hell with this," you say, and begin squeaking back OUT of your suit. "Let's skip the suit part and just go skin, OK? The surface is like bathwater; it can't be TOO cold down there." "I don't know; the sounding's over 80 feet, it's almost always below 50 degrees that far down..." But you're already out of the suit, and busily strapping on tanks. I take a cord and step up to the deck, tying it securely to my wrist monitor. I toss the monitor overboard, letting it sink to the full length of the cord, and pull it back in. 54 degrees. I return to the cabin. "It's cold, but do-able if we stay fairly active." Your eyes subtly twinkle, and you give me THAT look. "Count on it." I smile, and pull on my own gear, sans wetsuit. Hand-in-hand, we fall backward over the transom. You weren't kidding about "bathwater"; it feels warmer than the air. I glance at my wrist: eight feet; 94 degrees; both tanks 100%. I give you the thumbs-up signal, you return it, and we start down. A wetsuit is more comfortable than it looks, but there's no sensation quite like skin-diving - REAL skin-diving in this case, as neither of us bothered to put on swimsuits after shucking the wets. A sand shark cruises in lazy S-es in the distance, ignoring us as we make our way down the face of the reef. There is an anxious moment as you hit the back of your hand on a spur of coral, but it's not bleeding, and we continue to drift downward. An inquisitive grouper, nearly as large as I am, takes an interest in the brass brightwork on my tank gauges. I remove my mouthpiece and hose it down with a stream of bubbles, and it discovers urgent business elsewhere. 40 feet; 62 degrees - still comfortable, but I'm getting goose-bumps...and so are you, especially the two prominent rosy-red ones standing firm and noticeably wrinkled against the cool water. An opening in the reef wall, about four feet around, looms darkly below. I tap you on the shoulder, and point, and we both head toward it. 55 feet; 58 degrees - brr! My balls are up so tight it's almost painful, pushing my cock semi-erect....as the twinkle in your eye tells me you're fully aware. I move into the opening...and about halfway in feel your hand on my ankle pulling me back - hard. I let you pull me back out. You're right, of course; caves like this are often inhabited by pleasant little creatures such as moray eels, which tend to be un-amused by gate-crashers. You glare at me through your mask, and I grin sheepishly (or as sheepishly as I can with a mouth-full of rubber) and peer more cautiously into the opening. All clear. We move slowly into the cave, being careful not to brush against the walls, which are jagged, broken coral of a dull salmon-red hue. About ten feet inward the passage opens into a chamber about thirty feet across; the floor covered with mounds of broken coral of every imaginable color, with brilliant yellow and blue anemones waving from the shallower crevices. The chamber is lighted by sun-rays streaming through a large opening in the roof, which must be nearly at the water's surface. I imagine an earthquake (a seaquake?) shattering this part of the reef wall to create this "cave". The thought leaves me apprehensive - just how well-supported is the rest of the ceiling? A little exploration reveals living coral layers deep all over the walls and ceiling - whatever created this chamber did so long ago, and nothing's collapsed since then. From the far side of the chamber, a third, slightly narrower opening leads slightly downward. I glance at my monitor - 70% air left; about an hour. Good enough. You follow me into the second passage, which goes in about twenty feet before taking a sharp left turn. I'm concerned again; it's getting DARK and neither of us brought a lamp. But as my eyes adjust, I see a glow ahead - another open chamber. We continue on, around another sharp bend, and emerge into the most incredible place I have ever seen. The chamber is not open. I can't see the walls; I have no idea how large it is. The glow is coming from thousands of blind, minnow-sized, luminescent fish, who must live out their entire lives in this one chamber. We float in the center of a small Universe of pale green and blue stars, drifting lazily in an infinity of darkness. It's so beautiful that I'm close to tears. There is just enough light for me to make out your form drifting next to me. I reach out, and you take my arm and gently, but firmly, pull me close to you - it's clear that you're as moved by the sight as am I. We hold each other, and despite the cold I feel my passion - and something else - beginning to rise. As do you. You reach around and gently stroke my cock as I caress your breasts from behind. I feel you breathing more deeply, and a corner of my mind notes that we're using more air than usual now, but we have enough. You turn, locking your legs around mine as you work my cock and balls with both hands now. I circle your nipples with my fingertips, and squeeze them - gently; my own are almost numb from the cold, and any more than that would probably hurt you. My hands gradually find their way down past your waist, and give your clit the same attention, with a finger soon finding its' way inside. You squirm; I'm sure it's cold, but you're moving right along with me, complementing the gentle rhythm of my hands against you and inside you. I loosen the grip of your legs and slide downward, giving me a better look at what I'm doing, and giving my now-rock-hard cock a breather - those talented hands had me ready to explode. You drift motionless, apart from the slight rhythm of your hips meeting my fingers thrusting into you. I remove my mouthpiece and take your clit full into my mouth, feeling the movement of your hips slow and deepen. The salty tang of the seawater mingles perfectly with the sour-musk taste of your clit as I warm it with my mouth and stroke the underside gently with my tongue, feeling it swell. A half-minute of this, and I pause briefly to take a breath. Inspired, I trigger the mouthpiece and send a churning stream of bubbles over your pussy, up your belly and over and around your breasts. You begin to tremble, and I feel your arm pressing my side as you do a half-turn, pivoting end-for-end about me. I hear the bubbles stream from your mouthpiece as you take a firm grip on my balls with one hand and begin slowly but firmly sucking me. I return the favor, and we drift in weightless sixty-nine for a few minutes, pausing frequently to breathe. My lungs begin to tire, and I put the mouthpiece back in place for good as I turn you around once again. You lock your legs around my waist and pull me into you. We stroke each other deeply, but not frantically -- this is no place for animalistic coupling; either of us losing our mouthpieces at the wrong moment would be disaster. Your hips grind more and more firmly against mine; we embrace and feel the water warming between us as we hold each other closer and pump even more deeply. Suddenly I can't hold back any longer; my head arches back as I grab your rear and pull every inch of myself into you as I come. You put one hand on my back and another on my rear as we continue to move, and a few seconds later I feel your pussy grab my cock in a velvet-on-steel embrace; you lean back and your nails dig into my back and arm in time with the short, sharp hip-thrusts of your orgasm. We drift aimlessly for a couple of minutes, then disengage. You touch my cheek, gently. We share a final embrace, then move back into the passage to the outer chamber. With our eyes now adapted to the dim light, we have no trouble finding it. As we emerge into the sunlight, the first thing we do is check our monitors. You're at 16% - low (too low!), but more than enough to make it back to the surface. I'm at 28%; enough for both of us, if necessary. No problem. You break off a chunk of coral as a souvenir (illegal, but too late!, heh heh), and we leave through the upper opening. It's late afternoon when we break the surface, about a quarter-mile from the boat. A quick kiss, and we swim just a few feet down, taking in the scenery one last time on the way back. I pull myself over the railing, and help you over. We dry and stow the gear, then dry ourselves, and dress. We enjoy a light meal as the sun sets, and sleep. With the first rays of dawn, comes breakfast. As the sky gradually brightens, you warm up the engines and plot a course home as I pull in the sea anchor and secure everything below-deck. I join you at the helm, and we share a smile. As the edge of the Sun flares at the horizon, we swing the boat's prow to the southwest, and head for Cairns.