Bahamas Vacation (4) (Background: I took a trip to get away from memories after my fiancee's, Debby's, death. We had planned to be here, Nassau, Bahamas, on our honeymoon.
I met Cinnamon, an employee at the hotel, when I checked in. We have spent the last three nights together. She has 2 days off yesterday she was my tour guide in Nassau. Today we are going fishing which she arranged with the husband of one of her co-workers.) I awoke with my arm still around Cinnamon.
I listened to her slow steady breathing. I smelled the enticing scent of her hair. I was thinking how amazing it was that I was lying next to a woman who had posed nude for a picture in playboy. I looked at the clock by the side of the bed. It was 4:40 in the morning. We had to be at the dock at 6:00 to meet of guide. I just lay there enjoying the warmth of her body pressed against mine. The phone rang. Cinnamon awoke and picked up the phone since it was on her side of the bed.
"Hello! Ok thanks!" she said as she hung up the phone. "That was our wake-up call." She got out of bed to my disappointment. I took in the fantastic view of her naked body as she walked to the bathroom.
The shower came on and she closed the shower curtain. She finished and I took my shower. As soon as we were ready we were on our way.
We arrived at the dock and a tall black was standing there near a 17 foot Boston Whaler. "Andy this is Robert," Cinnamon said when we got to the boat. We got aboard and I shook hands with Robert. Cinnamon and I sat down on the seats behind him and we left the dock. We headed toward the east end of the island. Robert stopped by an island east of Paradise Island. "Sorry! We will just be here a couple of minutes.
I am going to drop a couple of fish traps before we go out farther to fish," Robert said. He dropped 2 traps over with empty plastic gallon containers attached as buoys. Then we headed out with the compass pointed east southeast. The water got deeper. We continued several miles until New Providence, the Island on which Nassau is located, appeared to be breaking up.
The water began to get shallower. The ocean was relatively smooth. Robert slowed the boat and gazed across the water. "What are you looking for?" I asked. "Shoals," he answered. "They are rocky formations with plants and fish surrounded by white sand." We headed to a large dark spot in the water.
Robert put the engines in neutral and grabbed a water glass. The water glass looked like a wooden pail with glass on the large end. Robert leaned over the side and moved the water glass around looking for something. "This will do for a starting point," Robert said. His accent was thick, but still was easy to understand.
He ran the boat upwind about 40-50 feet. Put the engine in neutral, then put the anchor overboard. He let out rope until stern was about 10 feet from being over the shoal. He moved the anchor rope from one side of the bow to the other. The stern swung over and lined up better with the shoal. "We use drop lines here for these fish," Robert explained.
He prepared the lines and the bait, conch. I had never seen a live conch before. The animal from inside the beautiful shell was mostly white, but there was a dark part up near the spur. The spur looked like plastic.
There were also some orange parts. Robert cut the orange parts up and pushed them aside. He cut up some of the white part and put these pieces on the hooks. He handed Cinnamon and I each a spool with the bait and a lead sinker. "Drop the hook and sinker just over the side. Let out line until you don't feel the weight of the sinker. Then let out 15 to 20 more feet," Robert instructed. "Then pull up the line and let it fall on the bottom of the boat.
Don't loop the line around your fingers, wrist, or hand. You will get a bad burn or cut from the line if a fish is on your line." We did as he instructed.
While we were pulling our lines back in Cinnamon screamed. "I have a fish on my line!" she exclaimed. "Pull it in nice and steady," Robert instructed. I continued to pull in my line as I watched Cinnamon. Soon Cinnamon had her fish out of water. Robert stepped over and brought it into the boat. He unhooked it and held it for a few seconds for us to see.
It was 8-10 inches long and was blue and yellow striped. Suddenly it started making a grunting sound. "This is called a grunt, you can tell why," Robert said as he put it in a large plastic pail partly filled with water. "Good eatin'." He threw some of the Orange pieces out toward the shoal. He baited Cinnamon's hook and threw it out toward the shoal.
"Give it line until it reaches bottom, then pull it taut." Robert continued to instruct. I followed Robert's example and threw my line also. Soon Cinnamon screamed again she had another fish. While she was pulling this one in I felt a tug on my line, set the hook, and began pulling in my first fish. Cinnamon had another grunt about the same size as her first. Then she watched as I finished pulling in my fish.
My fish was longer and thinner. As he took my fish off the hook Robert said, "This is a yellowtail snapper." The fish was blue on top and bottom with a yellow stripe from the gills to the tail. We continued fishing for the next 90 minutes or so. We had caught about 20 fish between us. Then the fish stopped biting.
Robert said, "Time to move on." He pulled up anchor and moved to another shoal. We anchored and caught a few fish before there was a big jerk on my line as I was pulling in a fish.
Then there was nothing. I pulled up the rest of the line. There was nothing on the line, no hook, no sinker, and the line itself looked like it had been cut. "Barracuda," said Robert. "We can either catch him or move. What do you want?" "Well Cinnamon, catching a Barracuda would make for an interesting memory and a good story," I said. "Sure, let's go for it. Is it dangerous?" Cinnamon asked.
"I've done it before. Just have to be careful if it gets in the boat and starts flopping around," said Robert. Robert got out another fishing line. It had a wire leader, a larger hook, and was much thicker.
He took one of the smaller fish we had caught earlier and hooked it on the end of the line. He unwound a good amount of line and then threw the hooked fish as far as he could. Since there was no sinker it stayed near the surface of the water. Robert slowly and steadily pulled in the line. He got it back in the boat and threw it out again. Again he slowly pulled in the line. "There he comes!" Robert yelled.
There was definitely large dark shape moving toward the fish on the end of the line. The line went taut. Robert jerked the line setting the hook. He gave the fish some line and then pulled back when he could fighting with the strong fish.
He was able to gain line a foot or so at a time. "Do you want to feel the fight in this one?" he asked me.
I went over and he passed me the line. This was like no other fish I had caught in the lakes of Minnesota.
When the fish struggled I could only hold it steady or give it back a little line. "Keep the line taut. If you give a cuda slack it can chew through the metal leader," Robert instructed.
20 or 25 minutes later the barracuda was coming up next to the boat.
Robert had grabbed a 2x4 with a handle carved out of one end. He had used this to pound the conch to soften it up. He called it a bruiser. As Cinnamon watched, she said, "Be careful!" She sounded a little frightened. The fish was now along side the boat. "Lift it's head out of the water!" Robert commanded. I had about 6 inches of the fish out of the water, Robert hit the barracuda several times with the bruiser.
The fish looked limp. He grabbed a net sitting nearby. We pulled the fish into the boat. It was about 4 feet long. Robert stuck the handle of the bruiser into the barracuda's mouth. It clamped down lightly, clearly tired, dazed, and out of fight. It had sharp teeth and an angry look.
He moved it to where it would not be near us. "I know someone who will pay me for this, take and mount it, and then sell it," Robert said. We began fishing again, but didn't even get a nibble. After several minutes Robert said, "The cuda pushed the other fish into hiding. We should move elsewhere." We moved to another shoal.
After anchoring we began fishing again.
After catching a few fish, Cinnamon got something on her line. "Help!
I can't pull it in," she called out. Robert quickly went over to help. "Did you have a fish?" he asked. "Yes, I am sure I did. It jerked and pulled a couple of times," she said. "I got a couple of pulls in then couldn't pull anymore." Robert took the line and pulled it a couple of different directions. The line came free then went taut again. "The fish is still on the line. The line must have gotten caught on the shoal," Robert said giving the line back to Cinnamon.
I watched as Cinnamon pulled in the fish. When she got the fish into the boat, it was a large, gray, roundish-shaped fish. Robert picked it up and unhooked it. He held it up for us to see. "They call this a trigger fish. Let me show you why. Andy push the big spine down," Robert said. The fish had a large spine and a smaller spine on it's back.
I pushed on the larger spine. It wouldn't move. "Cinnamon, you push the spine down," robe requested. Cinnamon pushed the spine and it went down easily. "It's a trick," explained Robert.
"To get the large spine to collapse you must push down the smaller spine. That's why it is called a trigger fish." He demonstrated this, then each of us tried it.
"We are going to have to go in soon. There's weather coming in," he said pointing out to the south. "Let's go in now," said Cinnamon looking worried. Robert started the engine and started pulling up the anchor. We wound up our fishing lines. With the anchor aboard we started back to New Providence. "We have to retrieve my fish traps," Robert said. As we neared the spot we had dropped the traps, Robert slowed the engine.
He spotted the makeshift buoys and came along side one of them. He pulled it in. Inside the trap were a couple of fish and 4 crawfish, spiny lobsters. Soon we came alongside the second trap. Robert pulled it up. Before it came out of the water his face had a look of disappointment. Then as it broke the surface his expression turned to fear. "Get back!" he shouted. Cinnamon and I moved away.
He carefully pulled it over the side of the boat and quickly put it down on the deck. "There's a moray eel in the trap!" Robert shouted. "Andy find the large knife and the hatchet under my seat." I looked under his seat and found both the knife and the hatchet.
Each had a case covering their blades. I removed the cases and set them on his seat. "Which do you want first?" I asked. "The hatchet, then the knife soon after," he responded. I handed Robert the Robert the hatchet and waited for him to ask for the knife. "Be careful," Cinnamon said. Robert was able to pin the eel just behind the head using the handle of the hatchet sticking it through the openings in the trap. The eel made a sound I can only describe as a hiss. "Hand me the knife!" Robert instructed.
I gave him the knife.
He stuck the knife in and severed the eel's head. Cinnamon had turned away. The tail portion flopped a few times then stopped. Robert sighed in relief. "These things are evil. Their teeth curve backward. If they get ahold of you, you can't pull away," Robert explained. The eel looked to be about two and half feet long. Cinnamon and I had seen a small one yesterday at Ardastra Gardens.
Robert took the fish trap opened the door and shook out the contents. Then dunked the trap a couple of times to clean it. Soon we were heading back to the dock. We stopped at a dockside gas pump and filled the fuel tanks. I paid for the fuel as agreed. Soon we were back to the spot we started. "Look!" said Robert pointing toward the east end of the island. There was a thunder storm that appeared to be over the area we had been fishing about an hour earlier.
"I'll clean the fish. Cinnamon you can arrange with Holly to pick them up," Robert said. I assumed Holly was his wife that worked with Cinnamon. I paid him the amount that had been agreed. We both thanked him. We got in the car and drove to Cinnamon's apartment.
We walked into her apartment and were confronted by her cat Char. It sounded like Char was upset that Cinnamon had not come home last night. It was still mid-afternoon, but Cinnamon went to the kitchen and fed her. "I'm taking a shower," she said going to the bedroom. I heard the water come on, but not the shower. She came out the bedroom completely undressed. "Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?" she asked before turning around and going back into the bedroom.
I went into the bedroom, undressed, and then walked into the bathroom. Cinnamon was standing in the bath tub. She looked so beautiful standing there. I stared. "Your staring!" she said. "Sorry!" I replied. "Don't be sorry.
It's a compliment," she said. I stepped into the tub and closed the curtain. Cinnamon turned the shower on then turned and hugged me. I hugged her tight, her ample breasts pressing into my chest. The hot water was running down her back.
I rubbed my hands down her back and down to her round ass. We kissed, exploring each other's mouths with our tongues. I began to stiffen, pushing against her thighs. She grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled us tighter together. Cinnamon pulled her mouth away and whispered into my ear, "I can't wait to get your 'eel' inside me." She laughed. She reached between our bodies searching for my "eel".
She found it and began caressing my penis.
I began to get harder. It had almost gotten to the point of being painful pushing up against her. Cinnamon knelt down in the tub in front of me.
My penis rubbed up her belly, and across one of her breasts as she went down. The tip of my rod ended up on her lips when it sprung up. The water cascaded down my chest. She kissed the tip, then licked it. Her tongue swirled around it before she took it into her mouth. She tightened her lips around it, sucked in, and continued to use her tongue on the tip. Slowly she took more of me into her mouth.
She cupped her hands around each of my balls. She squeezed lightly moving them around slowly and gently. I put my hands behind her head, encouraging her to take me in deeper. She did until she started to gag then backed off a bit.
I lowered my hands to her shoulders and massaged them. Cinnamon moaned appreciatively. She then moved in and out on my penis. She moved slowly at first, then quickened her pace. I held off thrusting, not wanting her to gag again. Soon I was on the brink of cumming. "I'm going to cum," I said.
She continued and I exploded down her throat. She sucked me dry, then pulled back. "So this is what eel tastes like," she giggled. She stood back up. We hugged. I leaned over and took one of her nipples into my mouth. She moaned satisfied, pushing my mouth tighter to her breast. "Can we switch positions? I've had enough water on my back," she insisted.
We turned around until my back was facing the water. I moved to her other breast. I sucked hard and nibbled lightly on her nipple. She jerked a little, then pushed my head against her chest. I moved lower kissing down her stomach to her belly button. I put my finger in her navel and moved it around.
She jerked slightly and said, "That feels weird and sort of tickles. Not bad weird, just different." I stuck my tongue in her bellybutton and wiggled it around. She shivered. "That was pleasant," she said. I moved lower. The water was cascading down the front of her and on to my face.
I moved down to her pussy. I spread her lips open with my fingers. My tongue moved over and around her clitoris. Cinnamon moaned loudly. Her hands pushed my head into her pussy. I licked harder and faster trying not to drown in the process. I pushed one finger, then two into her love hole. I let them explore inside her. Cinnamon moaned loudly again. I heard Char meow from the direction of the door leading to the bedroom.
"Char everything is f…", her voice trailed off as her body stiffened. She shook and bucked against my mouth and tongue. She shrieked loudly and shuddered uncontrollably. Her knees began to collapse. I grabbed her legs to support her. She put her hands on my shoulders to stabilize herself.
Char poked her head around the corner of the shower curtain the direction I was looking. "Hi Char," I said. Cinnamon looked back over her shoulder. "Char you never come in when the shower is running. You've never even wanted to get near the tub," Cinnamon said as Char disappeared. "I'll wash your hair since it is already wet, if you wash mine after." I agreed. I stood up.
She grabbed the bottle of shampoo. She worked up a lather and gently washed my hair. I rinsed the shampoo out. We switched positions. She wet her hair, then turned her back to me. I shampooed her hair enjoying the sight and feel of her lovely red locks. My hands made their way from her head down to her lower back. I couldn't help myself. My hands continued down to her ass cheeks. I kneaded them. She pushed her rear end back into me. She rinsed her hair while her head was lowered. "Do you want me to fill the bath tub?" she asked.
"Sure," I said realizing our naked time together was not over. She set the tub to be filled and switched the shower off. The tub began to fill. We sat down in the tub facing each other with her legs inside mine. The water rose until it covered our legs. Cinnamon turned the water off.
I rubbed her calves and as far up her thighs as I could reach. She rubbed my calves which were a little sore from keeping my balance on the boat as it rocked in the waves.
Cinnamon slid up my legs wrapping hers around me. She turned the water on and filled the tub further until the water was lapping at the safety drain. Her hands encircled my already growing member.
She began sliding them up and down. I reached for her pussy with one hand and her ample breast with the other. I slid my fingers up and down the length of her pussy lips and squeezed her breast gently as I massaged it. Her nipple was erect and hard. She tipped her head back enjoying the sensation. "I want you inside me before you cum!" she said emphatically. I was fully erect and loved the feeling of the warm water and her hands bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I inserted two fingers into her and put my thumb on her love button.
Her phone rang. We both paused for a second, but then ignored it. I heard the answering machine kick on and take the call. (This was the early 80's in the Bahamas, voicemail was not available.) Cinnamon moaned loudly and pushed closer. She guided my 'eel' to her love hole.
I moved both hands to her breasts. I slid into her as she continued to move forward. She was tight and slick inside.
Our pelvises met. We hugged each other for more than a minute. We both started thrusting, making the water in the tub splash around. Each time we bumped each other Cinnamon let out an "oh". We moved faster, some water splashing out of the tub. "I'm almost there," I said.
"Keep going, hard and fast," she said. I increased my pace and she hers. We banged together for almost some time before I shot my load inside her. Cinnamon grimaced, then shuddered and shook. Her vaginal muscles clamped around me, then spasmed the length of my rod.
When she stopped shivering she lay down in the tub with her head resting on the far end. I lay back resting my head on the other end. I remained inside her for a short time before I slid out.
The water began to cool and we got out and dried ourselves while the tub emptied. "I'm going to wash our clothes," Cinnamon said. "There's a robe hanging in my closet." I got the robe and put in on. I heard the washing machine start. I sat down in the living room. "I'm going to listen to the message on the machine," she said going into the bedroom.
A few minutes later she came out.
"Holly invited us to dinner tonight. Should I say we'll be there?" Cinnamon asked. "Sure they have been so helpful," I replied.
Cinnamon called Holly and accepted. She finished the laundry. We got dressed. "Cinnamon," I paused. "Do … do you have a copy of the playboy you were in?" "Yes, I do!" she answered. "Would you like to see it?" "Yes!" I said. She disappeared into the bedroom.
She had a magazine in her hand. She opened it and handed it to me. "I'm on the lower left," she said as if I wouldn't recognize her. "Don't be looking at the other photos!" I looked at her picture.
Aside from her wearing less make-up now she had changed very little. In her picture she was completely nude. It pictured her from the knees on up. Her face and breasts were directly facing the camera. She was slightly turned at the waist so her pubic hair and pussy were not visible. "Which do you like better?" she asked. "I like the real thing better than a picture," I responded.
"I'm a hands-on kind of guy!" She smiled and kissed me. We waited to leave for supper.