Titillating Titanic Romance, PART I

I am exploring through writing styles and types of scenes. To hone my romance writing skills I am exploring the sensual side of written works, and tuning into the current vocal challenges in order to do so. Hopefully my written skills can be more successful that my life's reality. Maybe my written works can prove better quality than my romantic pursuits of old.

Please enjoy a fictional tale of romanticism and the whims of a sailor's dreams, leading him to a lost love he hadn't known to be so real and wonderful, or possible to find. Set to the time of the Great Titanic itself, here is a love story lost in the waters, recovered by a writer's whimsy and crafted romance.

Written as fiction, one could only imagine whether or not the romantic tale is a real envisionment of the past, come to life on these pages.

Please, read and enjoy the plot as it unfolds over the next several days.

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The Birds were flying high over the ocean blue. How his mind wavered towards them, flying high over the sunset of pinks, corrals and an orangey mix that flowered and flowed through the bright blue sky like ribbons in the breeze. How he longed to be free like those birds.

The ribbons of pink colors reminded him of a woman he saw in his visions and dreams. He had never met her yet, but OH, how he longed to. She was as beautiful and haunting as the dream itself, and the ribbons of pink flowed in the breeze as the ribbons of her undone corset in the wind, loosening the corset's tight grip on her bosom, and letting the pale and milky, yet slightly rosy rounds spill over the top of her baby pink corset, as he gazed further into the dimension of his daydream.

"Wake up, Matey! There isn't a woman to be see for miles and miles, 'lest a maiden siren from the waters has your grip!" Raucous laughter followed this comment, and reality woke him from his reverie and wonderfully wet daydreams. As wet as the ocean he sailed over, but in his pants. he was aware that this was a dream now, all thanks to his captain and a thing called reality. Alas, if only all dreams could come true, he thought, as he sat up and let go of the hardness he was holding. Oops. Hormones are like the waves of the ocean. High then low, back and forth, and crashing in unpredictability. Also, Controlled by the moon of the night, brought into motion by orbits under lunar pull. Creatures of the night, indeed. But the moon was still high during the day, he reminded himself. There, yes - but not always visible. He wouldn't have a sailing career if the waters didn't move during the day just because the moon couldn't be seen right now, he reminded himself. Dangerous waves of hormones, these were.

"Aye, Matey, why don't you try steering at the helm, instead of the stick shift boner ye have there. I'm pretty sure Jason is due for a break from the helm any moment here, and you're due up on deck. Your services are still needed as a sailor, and your time to settle down can wait until you retire, Matey --- unless you're willing to share her with the rest of us, this lady of your dreams..." A pause drifted into elongated silence, like he was waiting on an answer to his absurd, corrupted request.

He would not give him one to satisfy him by. captain, or not. This was one question he would leave unanswered. A command expected, but left unfulfilled -- all for her honor.

He grimaced at the latest comment. Sailors could be so crude and evil. Not all of them, of course. But the thought of putting a woman through being shared with an entire crew just to satisfy their sexual cravings whenever they wanted seemed very unfair and cruel to do to one person, let alone a female at the hands of gruff, rough men of unimaginable cruelty. Lord, pity him when he found her, the woman who haunted his dreams, and have mercy on her soul. If there be yet a God out there watching over the heavens of sunsets as gorgeous as these.

Why was the only career he could start out in a sailing career? Why couldn't he find something more honorable and suitable, more worth pursuing and fighting for, like this woman in the winds of his fantasy.

How would he find her anyway? Maybe mermaids were real, and more likely as not that she was one, given that these dreams haunted him as he hovered the waters as a sailor on crew aboard the ship "Santana" (word choice here? figure out relatable name. What else could curse his mind to conjure up such dreams than a mermaid, or mesmerizing siren of old? Curse these blasted waters. His career, his company and now this.

But alas, back to the helm, and to reality; "Just making a living on the ocean blue, to pay a man back what he is due." He had oft repeated this mere rhyme to remind himself that, while he wasn't doing something more honorable or desirable for a career, at least he was doing something to make ends meet ad pay the bills he owed his debtors. Better than doing nothing, he presumed.

"Did you hear me mate?"

"Yes, Captain!" he replied swiftly, saving his own back, as well as his crew and job.

"Heading towards the helm right now, Captain, Sir!"

Responsible, ready at a moment's notice, and dutiful that he was. At least he held his own. Unfortunately, this only made his crew members take more slack and lay more duties and responsibility on his back.

"What does the weather hold, Mate?"

He looked up, attention growing towards reality, boner shrinking and daydream subsiding.

"Red sky at night, Sailor's delight. Red sky in morning; sailors take warning. Looks to be fair weather ahead, Captain!"

"Delight, eh?" teased an experienced fellow sailor, yet morally corrupt mate.

He smiled ruefully but let their laughter fade into the background. Here at the helm, they were out of sight, out of mind. And he wished, out of earshot. Another of his dreams he hoped would come true.

Light was the day, but heavy the load upon his shoulders. Low and behold, however -- that was all about to change.