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The sail locker was bare.It was about three and a half hours later that I made it to their reported coordinates. I found four people clinging to the mast while the rest of their boat wallowed in the sea. Only their ship's buoyant insulation kept them afloat. Their mast HAD driven through the hull. I got everyone aboard. I'd rescued the Evans family. Randy and Cindy were experienced mariners. I'm afraid that even their children, Eve and Charlene knew more about operating a sailboat than I did. I grinned to myself. Still, who rescued whom?I tied up to their mast and brought aboard the family as Randy dove down into their ship's cabin to salvage what he could. It wasn't much, but at least he got the ship's papers. She went down in over 800 feet of water so there'd be no salvage attempts. He managed to grab their sea bags and a few arms full of clothing. The wave action soon tore the mast loose and we had to abandon any salvage. She soon slipped beneath the surface. We marked the. The depth of sharing and bonding as we became Dominant and submissive, then Master and slave, only intensified the amazing attraction and pull we felt toward one another.I can hardly describe the need that came over me. From the beginning, our relationship was supposed to stay casual. But that wasn't to be; we morphed from friends, to fuck buddies, to Master and slave with a speed and fluidity that would have made most in The Lifestyle laugh. And it was supposed to stop there, and go no further. We would be forever 'online only', connected on a deep, intoxicating level, but through our minds and hearts only. A meeting in person was simply out of the question. We would come together, share those bits of eachother we could, and live our separate lives.The pull was too great, though. We were meshing and getting consumed by each other, and soon, we finally broke down and decided to meet face to face.In a completely uncharacteristic move of impulsiveness, I made the two hundred and fifty.
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