All hands and feet on board

Zenza eased the throttle and let the yacht drift. Addison sat with her legs stretched across the cushions, toes flexing in the sunlight, and he could not look away. He cut the engine, crossed the deck in three strides, and pulled her sandals free. His hands wrapped around each foot, thumbs pressing deep into her arches while he kissed her ankles, the insides of her knees, then her mouth. Addison tugged his shorts down, lips closing around him without a word, and the wet heat of her tongue dragged a low sound from his throat. She worked him slow and steady, eyes lifted, one hand stroking in time with her mouth, feet sliding up his bare thighs until her soles brushed the base of his shaft. Zenza shifted her onto the cushions, peeled the tiny bikini from her hips, and lowered his face between her legs, tasting her while her toes curled against his back. When she was gasping he climbed over her, slid inside in one smooth thrust, and held there, hips rocking in a tight, deliberate rhythm that made her legs wrap around him. He kissed the sole of one foot, licked along the arch, then guided both feet to his chest so he could watch them while he moved faster. Addison reached down, gripped his hips, urged him deeper, and the boat rocked beneath them with every thrust until the sound of skin on skin mixed with the slap of water against the hull.