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Are we on a boat?
Fuck, yes.
Are we going fast?
Aww, hell yes. We're getting straight to the sex with this one.
I mean, how exactly is up to you, partially. Rope biting your wrists on the other side of the mainmast, salty spray misting your face as saltier spray pulses deep into you and leaks down your thighs, the villainous pirate queen finally captured by the Admiral. Perhaps wined and dined in the captain's cabin, navigation charts spilling over the side of the table as your chest slams down on the wood and your breeches are yanked down. The nautical possibilities are endless!
Taken in the boiler room of an aircraft carrier by a dashing Marine? That's doable. Well, you're doable, but you know what I mean. Two lovers on a camping trip, paddling along on a canoe that gets increasingly off course in more ways than one? Mmm-hmm. Hell, I'm not picky- I'll build a sex raft. A motherfucking sex raft. Saw the logs and lash them together, a few pillows and some water, and we'll just bang on the lazy river and probably get kicked out of the waterpark.
Ever want the gusting winds of a gale to rage and storm around you while firm hands grip your head to make you take it deeper? Or the sun and stars to be your guide on the open ocean, with you handily on your back to see them better? Now's your chance, I'm telling you.
Anything goes here, just about. But there's one giant, neon, supertanker-sized caveat- whatever it is, we're on a motherfucking boat.
Don't you ever forget.
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