As Bette dropped anchor, upon reaching a spot they’d agreed to watch the sunset from, Tina had brought out the plates, throwing a linen white tablecloth folded into the top shelf of the cabinet on the table Dani had told her could be pulled out from the other side of the boat, then set the plates on the table.  She arranged the silver, rolled into linen napkins matching the table cloth.

Bette was shaking her head as she popped the mini-champagne bottle that one of the staff had packed into the cooler that they’d also brought on board.  “They don’t cut any corners here, do they?,” she said, laughing, as she poured champagne for her and Tina into the champagne flutes tucked into one of the drawers of the cabinet.

They fed mouthfuls of the delicious dinner to each other, and later, moved to the bow of the boat.   Then they lay down on the cushions Linda had thoughtfully packed for them, looking up at the darkening skies. Tina sighed again, “Did I tell you that this was one of those escape-from-it-all fantasies that I dreamt of as a child?”

Bette laughed gently, draining her champagne.  She was fully sated: they’d just watched a phenomenal sunset, enjoyed a delicious dinner, pared with excellent champagne.  Tina also set her champagne flute aside, and then slid over her, murmuring, “We’re all alone out here, aren’t we?  Floating on a boat, literally in the middle of the Indian Ocean? And I can make love to you out here until…”

Bette covered her mouth in a hot kiss, spreading her legs to help Tina settle in comfortably over her, “Until you and I cry out each other’s names. Only the stars are watching us from the heavens, baby,” she answered huskily, as she reached around Tina to unzip her skirt.

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Tina’s thoughts were lost in a reverie, filled with images of Bette hovering over her, body arched, set against the inky-black sky dotted with a million stars, as they rocked against each other, on a boat, in the middle of the ocean. “Miss?,” a waiter was asking her.

“Mmhmm…,” Tina responded, startled. As her senses slowly came back to earth, she felt a gentle kiss at
the top of her head.  The familiar voice answered for her, “another gin and tonic for her, please.  And a glass of the French red Bordeaux that you have open for me, thanks.”  Bette was pulling up her hand, “Care to dance Tina Porter-Kennard?,” as the middle of the FreezePop song that they had first made love to, while in the Paris Ferris Wheel several years ago, played in the background.