I briefly wonder if he reallyis sleeping or if he is listening to the squishing noises I make as my palmglides back and forth across my now wet vulva....I continue rubbing my clit and lean my face into his neck. It's easier thansaying it aloud in the quiet room. "I'm ready for you," I say. "I'mwet." I await his response, not stopping my rubbing. His voice is froggy and deep with sleep. "How close are you to coming?" "Not close," I say. "About a seven." It's understoodthat ten is coming.. "Bartholomew needs to chart a course."Pedro was stripped to his waist and he was washing in the small basin that stood beside his bunk. A clean shirt lay upon the surface of the bunk. His sword belt with sword and long knife lay beside it as did his brace of pistols. His armour and the shirt he'd worn the night before lay on the cabin floor."What do you suggest, my old friend?" Pedro asked Ishmael as he grabbed up a cloth to dry himself off. "Have you any thoughts as to where the bastard has. More

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