Karen Wants to do IT Deeper

Can lovemaking and scuba diving mix?

This story is from my time as picaroon living aboard my boat in Key Largo and follows my The Girl in the String Bikini adventure.

While not appearing to recognize me, Karen and Janet take seats at the table next to me in Sharky’s bar. I can smell the peach aroma from Karen’s freshly washed hair, but she won’t glance in my direction.

Perhaps the women don’t recognize me. They are both attractive with shapely full figures and appear to be over 30 years old. I had the pleasure of serving them on the afternoon dive cruise aboard the Happy Jack a few hours earlier. They had been well prepared, competent scuba divers and I had no specific interactions with them. I only know their names from eavesdropping on their conversations.

Karen and Janet order Margaritas. A few minutes later, the two women create a pause in the conversation by taking sips from their drinks.

“Karen,” I ask, “are you and Janet diving again tomorrow?” My question is strategically designed to indicate I know something about them. I want them to wonder how I could know their names and know they are divers. I want them to remember me from the Happy Jack. The question works perfectly. Both women turn to study me.

Janet is the first to recognize me, and she says, “You were on the boat today.” It is somewhere between a question and a statement, but before I can think of a response, she continues, “No, we are going shopping tomorrow morning and haven’t made plans for the afternoon.”

Our chairs are very close together and Karen has no difficulty reaching over to touch my thigh when she says, “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name.”

The electricity of her touch on my bare skin slows my thought process, but I finally say, “Mark.” I don’t fill in the details of her missing memory. It might be better if she thinks I had been a fellow diver on the boat.

Karen asks, “Have you lived here long?”

“Only a few months. I came down to enjoy the warmer winter weather. I’ll be heading back north pretty soon. Where are you from?”

“San Antonio,” she says, “we are staying in Janet’s family’s condo.” She points to the condos across the road. “We’ve been scuba diving in Canyon Lake north of San Antonio and this is my first open water dive. She has been doing this, diving here in the Keys, for several years.”

“Oh, you fooled me. I thought you were very experienced out there today.”

She smiles, but doesn’t say anything more. Perhaps she now remembers me as the boat’s mate. She sips her drink.

“We need to be heading back,” Janet says, as she notices both of their glasses are simultaneously empty.

Karen waits with me while I pay for my drinks, and then says, “This way.” She points to the exit. She leads me across the street and into the complex of condos. In a moment, we are at the pool where she reclines on a chaise lounge. I start to lie on the adjacent one, but she stops me.

“No, here.” She pats the empty space.

No way in hell is there room for both of us, but she pulls me down on top her. I guide my beer cup to the ground, without spilling it. She gently grips the hair on the back of my head and guides our lips together. Her tongue dances with mine. We break the kiss and she pushes upward on my chest. Using both hands to support myself above her, I watch as she unbuttons the two buttons holding her short blouse together. I do my best yoga cobra posture as she pulls the fabric free of her shoulders and drops it onto the concrete. I reach behind her back and grip the two halves of her bra strap. With one hand I, pinch the two halves together to release the clasp. She gasps and takes a deep breath. Are her lungs thrilled to be free of the bra’s confines, or is she surprised at the ease with which I performed this maneuver. She pulls the bra free of her shoulders and drops it on top of her blouse.

My lips find her left nipple and my tongue caresses it into hardness. Her fingers knead into my hair.

“Your beard tickles,” she says. “I’ve never had a man with a beard before.”

It’s always good to be first. I move to the right nipple. Her hand finds the zipper of my shorts and soon she is caressing my cock into hardness through the fabric of my underwear.

Softly, in my ear, she asks, “Have you ever done it underwater? Made love using scuba?”

The question may have been intended to be some sweet nothing whispered into my ear, but it was a clinical question and my brain involuntarily shifted into analytical mode.

My lips lift from her breast, and I reply, “Actually, I did try it once. I was 18 years old and hooked up with a slightly older woman. She wanted to try it. I borrowed a powerboat and took her out near Mosquito Bank. But, it didn’t work out. Or, more exactly, I couldn’t get it to work.” Karen struggled to suppress a giggle, and then pinched my firmness. “However, I’ve since learned that it’s a fun thing to think about, but it’s a notion best left to the imagination — romance novels and movies. It’s really not a good idea. The in and out action of lovemaking, uh, it pumps water into the woman. You know, fills her with sea water. Sea water is full of living micro-organisms and these can be harmful parasites to the, uh, very delicate unprotected tissue inside there. It’s okay in the treated water of a pool, but in a pool you don’t need the distraction of scuba.”

She again pushes up on my chest and twists out from under me. She strips off her shorts and panties and walks naked to the hot tub. She turns a dial on the control panel and the water leaps into a bubbling swirl. She picks up the remains of her drink and steps down into the foaming water.

I watch her eyes as she stares while I strip off my shirt, shorts and underwear. With my beer in hand, I join her in the hot tub. She downs her drink in a single gulp and straddles me. Her hand glides down my belly until it finds my erection. She strokes me and she presses my tip to her entrance. Even with the warm water of the hot tub, I feel the heat of her vagina. Sitting, she fills herself with me.

With the surging jet of the hot tub’s pumps urging her, she pumps up and down on my erection. Arching her back, she grips the hair on the back of my head and pulls my face into her breasts as her orgasm consumes her. This quickly triggers my own, and I fill her yet with cum.

The timer on the tub’s pumps expires. In the combined warmth of the afterglow and the hot water, we snuggle silently, still connected. However, our bonding is cut short when a car parks in a lot nearby one of the condo buildings. Karen and I huddle close in the shadows as four people walk from the car into the pool area. They are busy with each other and don’t notice us.

They are two couples sneaking onto the private grounds of the condos to make out in the pool. One pair immediately strips nude and jumps into the pool where they bond together. The other couple clings together lying on a chase lounge. We watch as they squirm out of their clothing, before beginning their lovemaking.

Karen softly giggles as we politely wait for them to finish. Then we climb out of the water. The four pairs of teenage eyes stare as we gather our clothes and walk naked to the adjacent condo building.

See what happens next in Bare Butt Sailing

Copyright ©2023 by Mark S. R. Sterling All Rights Reserved

More stories of my boating adventures:

Never miss one of my stories by subscribing:

Thank you for reading my story, I hope you enjoyed it. Check my profile for more stories for you to enjoy. I have more stories and books published on Amazon and other ebook retailers for your reading pleasure.