Hi,
Do you ever have those fantasies in which you’re shipwrecked on a desert island… just you and a handsome hunk or a gorgeous girl with only one thing on their mind?
(Sound of waves crashing)
… sorry, I drifted off there for a moment. But it was exactly this type of daydream that gave me the inspiration for my story, Shipwrecked, that’s just been released as part of the Smut By The Sea Volume 2 anthology. After a row with her boyfriend, inexperienced sailor jumps in his boat and heads out to sea. Unluckily for her, a storm is brewing but her luck changes when she washes up on the tiny island where Josh leads an isolated life as a lighthouse keeper. And he’s been all on his own for months – I’m sure you can guess the rest!
My story apart, it’s a fantastic anthology, with seaside themed pieces by Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, Tilly Hunter, Rachel Randall, Giselle Renarde, Kate Britton, Jillian Boyd, Belle Anderson, Cass Peterson, Delyth Angharad, TC Mill, Erzabet Bishop, Tenille Brown and Annabeth Leong. Some of erotica’s heavy hitters, you’ve got to admit.
So to whet your appetite, here’s an excerpt.
Enjoy!
Tamsin
xxx
Shipwrecked
‘I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere soon.’
Now he was sounding mildly threatening and my heart jumped to my mouth. I got up, this time without feeling dizzy. Although he was standing two steps below me, my face was now level with his own.
‘What do you mean? I’ll leave here when I choose to,’ I said, sounding braver than I felt.
With a look of grim resignation, he stood to one side.
‘Be my guest,’ he said.
I couldn’t get down the stairs fast enough and without worrying about a jacket or thinking about where I was going, I yanked open the front door and stepped out into a sheet of icy cold, horizontal rain.
‘Fuck!’
I was drenched within seconds and only made it about eight feet down the path when something looming in my peripheral vision made me stop and look round. It was a lighthouse, tall, slender and painted white, and at the top a bright ring of prisms shot out a beam that cut across the sky high above the house. And the rock upon which it was built.
So I really looked round, all the way. I was standing on the crown of a rock. Behind me was a small white cottage with a red tiled roof and attached to it on one side, the lighthouse. And all around, as far as the horizon, was sea. Nothing but sea. No other land in sight, the mainland shore nowhere to be seen.
I looked around at the tiny island. Far below me on a rocky outcrop, I spotted the remains of a sailing dinghy… the Minerva. I walked a few feet to see the other side of the rock; there was a small concrete jetty but no boat moored to it.
Josh was right. I wasn’t going anywhere soon. I panicked and suddenly felt as if I couldn’t breath.
I staggered back to the cottage and had to hammer on the door that had slammed behind me. Josh opened it, pulled me into his arms and kicked it shut behind us. As I burst into tears, he pushed the wet hair back from my forehead with one hand and firmly stroked my back with the other.
‘It’s okay,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘You’re perfectly safe here and there’s plenty of food until the supply boat returns.’
I gulped back my tears.
‘When will that be?’
‘A week, two weeks, depending on the weather.’
‘What? Everyone will think I’m dead.’
I pulled myself out of his embrace and he turned to lead the way into a small sitting room.
‘Come here by the fire,’ he instructed. ‘No one will think you’re dead. I’ve already radioed the coast guard to let them know you’re here. But you’d better get out of those wet clothes again, before you catch your death of cold.’
I looked at him, the firelight playing across his face, and I wondered about his existence out here, all on his own for months on end.
‘I’ll get those pyjamas,’ he said, making a move.
‘No wait,’ I blurted out. ‘How long have you been out here?’
‘I’ve been the keeper here for nearly two years.’
‘On your own all that time?’
He shrugged.
‘I like my own company. Something of a loner, really.’
But no sex for all that time? I couldn’t voice what I was thinking but my face went scarlet and the way he was looking at me now made it obvious he had guessed.
After sweeping up and down my body, his eyes met mine. I suddenly became conscious of the fact that I was wearing just a t-shirt, soaked through, and the cold had had quite an effect on my nipples. I looked down for confirmation of this and then looked back up at him in time to see his tongue dart out from between his lips.
‘You’re shivering,’ he said.
I started to pull at my clothes but my hands were shaking too much.
‘H-h-h-help-p-p m-m-meee,’ I said, through chattering teeth.
Standing in front of the roaring fire in the sitting room of his tiny lighthouse keeper’s cottage, Josh silently undressed me with tender hands. Slowly he slipped the t-shirt up the side of my ribs and then quietly, gently manoeuvred my arms out of the sleeves like you would if you were undressing a child. Finally, he smoothly rolled the wet garment up over my head, leaving me standing topless in front of him, shivering, wet and dripping on the floor.
My nipples stood out hard and proud, not just because of the cold, and as I caught him staring at them, a warmth started to blossom deeper inside me.
Without speaking he stepped forward and put his hands on the waistband of my jeans. He gave me a questioning look and I nodded. One by one he released the buttons of my fly and then slowly he peeled the cold, heavy denim down my legs.
‘Sit,’ he instructed, guiding me back towards a fireside chair.
I sunk into the softness of the blanket-covered armchair and he was able to pull each leg of my jeans down over my feet. My panties had come with them and suddenly I found myself sitting naked in the firelight in front of a fully-clad stranger who I’d only clapped eyes on a few short hours before.
Josh’s breath caught in his throat as he knelt in front of me, gazing up.
‘My God, Shelby. You’re like a mermaid washed ashore on dry land.’
TAMSIN'S SUPEROTICA 