“Valparaiso Gold. Picked it up back in Chile. Want a huff?” She held the joint out to me.
I took it and inhaled deeply. It was very good grass. I felt the wrinkles inside my head smoothing out.
We passed the joint back and forth for awhile in silence. When it was down to nail scrapings, Blaze tamped it out neatly and flipped it over the side. Then she lit another one. Time drifted by . . .
“I wonder where the turds go at night,” she drawled lazily.
I translated automatically. “You mean the seagulls?”
“The wingy thingies you see all day, but never after toilet when the sun goes down. I thought they were crows.”
“They’re seagulls.” I took a deep puff and the ocean splashed lavender.
“Then why do they call it a ‘Crow’s Nest’?” She pointed to the top of the tall mast looming a few feet away. “The thing over there. On top of that phallic thimble.”
“Tradition.”
“It’s because those turds are crows!” she insisted.
“Not seagulls, crows!”
“You’re absolutely right.” I passed her the roach.
“And that must be where they nest at night,” she deduced. “They seek refuse from the cold night air there.”
“I don’t think so.”
“But you’re not pure!”
“No,” I admitted.
“Well, I’m going to cook for myself.” Blaze got to her feet and strode over to the base of the mast.
“Hey! Wait a minute! I don’t think you should-—”
Too late. She had already started up the rope ladder leading to the top of the mast. A gentle sea breeze lifted her miniskirt to reveal strong, bare thighs and neatly filled bikini panties. About a quarter of the way up she paused, resting her ample breasts on one of the rungs of the rop ladder and called down to me. “Come on! You could use some exorcise! Don’t be chicken!”
I took a last deep puff from the roach, ditched it, and started up the ladder behind her. When I got close, she started climbing again and I followed. About halfway up, she stopped again, taking me by surprise. My head came up hard under her miniskirt and wedged for a moment between her tanned thighs.
“Be cheerful! You bumped my rump!”
“Sorry.”
Blaze caught her breath and we started climbing again. A strong breeze had come up and the rope-ladder was swaying considerably. If not for the pot, I probably would have been a lot more scared. As it was, I sort of swung with the sensation, looking upwards and enjoying the fleshy scenery between me and the sky.
Coming abreast of the Crow’s Nest, Blaze peered inside. “No turds.” She was disappointed.
“No shit!” Despite the pot, I was beginning to tremble now. “Let’s start back down,” I suggested.
There was along silence.
“Well?” I broke it.
“I c-c-can’t.” Blaze’s teeth were chattering. “I’m scared out of my tits!”
“Get hold of yourself!” I told her.
“I’m d-dizzy! I can’t seem to c-c-catch my breast!”
She really was shaky. I could see it and I could feel it. Afraid she’d let go, I grabbed her bottom with both hands and shoved her up and over the side into the Crow’s Nest. The violent movement shook me up and so I quickly tumbled in after her.
It was pretty crowded. No matter which way my hands reached, they came up full of Buxbocks pulchritude. Even when we finally both managed to struggle to our feet, we were wedged tightly together, our limbs entwined intimately. The grass having lowered my inhibitions, I accepted the uprising of my lust against her soft underbelly without embarrassment.
“You’re joking me,” Blaze noted matter-of-factly. She tried to move away slightly and one of her straps caught on my thumb and fell away from her right breast, baring it. “Stop staring like that at my nest!” she complained.
“I was focusing higher,” I told her.
“Another joint might settle my curves,” she suggested.
“Are you sure it won’t make things worse?”
“No. I feel very dense. It should deceive the tension.” She ducked down to light the joint.
A hard nipple pressed against my thigh. I squatted down myself, taking the joint from her when she offered it. I inhaled deeply.
“We're so high up,” Blaze observed. “It’s like riding on a shroud. It’s like being in Heaven.”
“Praise the Lord and pass the marijuana.” I puffed again, staring fascinated at her one naked breast. It reminded me of an egg fried sunnyside-up with a small sausage sticking straight up from the center of the yolk. Grass can do that to you. I’d just eaten, but I was hungry again.
“Feel the way we’re swinging back and forth like the pendulum of a cock.” Blaze giggled.
She was right. The sea breeze had developed into a strong wind. The Crow’s Nest was riding far out over the water and then way back again to the other side. The arc encompassed about sixty degrees.
Blaze’s other strap had fallen, and both breasts were bare now. Because we were so crowded, she was seated on my lap facing me, her knees locked around my waist. As I reached for the joint again, my hand slid across both her naked breasts. I let it linger there. She didn’t seem to mind.
I noticed that she was shivering. There were little goose-bumps on the wide aureoles surrounding her stiff nipples. I struggled out of my jacket and put it around her shoulders.
She sucked at the joint, passed it to me, and unbuttoned my shirt. Now her naked bosom was tight against my bare chest. I handed the joint back to her, ducked my head and kissed the hard tip of one of her breasts.
Blaze returned the favor. Her tongue laved my nipple lingeringly. I reacted.
“You’re getting incited,” she murmured.
“Yeah.” Lightheaded from the marijuana, the wind pounding over me, I slid my hand up her quivering thigh, under the miniskirt. It didn’t have far to go. Her silken bikini panties were slippery and a little moist. Heat greeted my fingertips as they slid under the elastic.
Blaze took one last deep puff and threw the roach to the howling wind. Her hands got busy at the waistband of my pants. In the position we were in, the zipper gave her a lot of trouble. I stood up so she could get at it.
With the upper part of my body no longer sheltered by the Crow’s Nest, I really felt the wind full force. It hit me like a gale! I had to hold onto the edge of the Crow’s Nest with all my strength to keep from being blown away as the ship pitched to an impossible angle that had the mast almost parallel to the water.
I was alarmed, but I was still stoned enough to forget my alarm when Blaze’s knowing fingers on my loins summoned me to squat back down. She still had on the miniskirt, but I noticed that her panties sat on top of my clothes in the corner. She clutched at me as I settled, frightened.
“It feels like a tycoon!” She shivered.
“Probably just the backlash from the hurricane.” I remembered that Maldemerde had decided to avoid it and felt somewhat reassured. “Nothing to worry about,” I told Blaze. “We’re not going to come anywhere near it.”
“That’s a belief!” She snuggled against me.
A cold raindrop pinged off the tip of her breast. She started and I caressed her to soothe her. I stroked her silken back, and when she purred a little, I let my hands drift lower. She raised her face to be kissed.
Her mouth was a warm refuge in a night fast turning chilly. Her soft lips parted. Our tongues entwined. My mind, reminding me, said snatch itch. My penis said, forget it.