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This story is stand alone. But it is a sequel to an earlier trilogy; The Big Tease, Oral in the Ocean and Fucking Under the Foredeck.
It had been two weeks since the last trip on the yacht; the one where we had finally found the privacy to consummate our relationship.
Each of us living at home might make good economics in an expensive Sydney real estate market, but it makes for a lousy sex life. It’s not so much that our parents expect us to be monastic; it’s just the awkwardness of getting down and doing it at the start of a new relationship in a house filled with your parents and siblings. And that’s before you worry about the sound transmitting walls.
But for me the situation had been compounded by my growing fondness – I might even be brave enough to call it attachment – to Sam. There’s a big difference between that general, vague sort of randienss and sexual deprivation you feel when you’re not in a relationship on the one hand and the barely controllable desire to rip off your clothes and surrender your body to a guy you’ve really got the hots for on the other.
If the tendency of his cock to turn into an embarrassingly visible boner in his pants in my mere presence was any guide, Sam was feeling the same way; even if I allow for the fact that being a guy, it might just as easily been the view down my cleavage that I was all too willing to present to him that was having that effect. And while girls might be a little more lucky in that their state of arousal is not as bleeding obvious, there were times I was aware that my nipples were betraying me; visibly reacting to Sam’s presence on a day when cold wasn’t an excuse.
Sure, twice since then at the end of a date night he’d fingered me and I’d hand jobbed him to mutual orgasms as we’d pashed in his car before I went inside. But it’s not the same is it? And that’s before you think about the mess it makes of our clothes. Greeting your parents with soaking wet undies under your short skirt, hoping there’s not a revealing damp patch on the back of it while trying not to walk bow legged is never the best form of entrance.
So it was good to get access to dad’s yacht again for another mid-week day on the harbour.
As I climbed between the boarding platform and the yacht I knew he was getting a panoramic view of my bikini clad butt. The mini sundress I was wearing rode up as I stretched my legs wide apart to straddle the distance between the jetty and yacht and get over the life lines. I also knew that from where he was standing on the lower level of the dock itself, there was no chance he was looking anywhere else. He wasn’t meant to be.
I turned around to take the bag he was holding from him and drop it on the cabin top behind me; leaving him two hands to climb aboard too. Already the start of an erection was showing in the thin stretchy material of his boardies [#board shorts].
After last time, the getting ready routine was a familiar one to him. We moved back to the cockpit, opened up the companionway and climbed down the stairs into the cabin. There the food was taken out of the bag and put into the fridge before storing the bag in the front cabin. As I did last time, I stripped off my dress and left it there too; leaving me in just a very small bikini. More familiar with the routine this time and comfortable with our relationship, Sam followed suit and dumped his t shirt.
Then it was a case of opening up the boat; pulling back blinds and opening the overhead hatches to air the boat out. Sam had seen it before and eagerly helped; although we still found plenty of opportunities to brush provocatively past each other as we moved from spot to spot in the narrow confines of the cabin. And there was no doubt his erection grew within his pants with each contact. Captured by the material of the boardies, it was pointing outward; almost presenting a barrier to my passing. The last time it actually bent sideways and then flicked across my lower stomach before I could get past. Sam just grinned – no longer embarrassed by it – and I grinned back.
Then, as Sam now well knew, there were just two more actions before going topside and preparing it for a sail too. Firstly I lifted up the companionway stairs to gain access to the engine bay to turn on the raw water sea cock and check the engine oil. The engine access is pretty good in this boat and, with or without Sam there, I find the easiest way to do what I need to do is bend at the hips and stick my head and arms in. That of course leaves my butt hanging out and pointing upwards.
I’ve never doubted that dad’s usual crew enjoy the view when I’m the one who does it on race days; even if I’m usually wearing a less than flattering pair of sailing shorts. In the bikini I was wearing today, Sam was getting a lot more than that. I knew from the selfie I’d taken between my legs before the last day that a cute olive skinned butt (if I do say so myself) framed a tiny bikini that was now folded deeply into bahis firmaları my bum crack. The leg seams curved sensuously around the mound of my front bottom while the soft thin material moulded itself tightly to the flesh underneath; a pinch of it captured between the lips of my vulva to create a noticeable camel toe.
This was no straight leg seamed, stiff planked pants view of a bikini butt. With the deep camel toe in the orange/ reddish material of the pants, my lady parts had reminded me of two quarters of an apple arranged neatly on an olive skinned plate and just waiting for the eating. They also reminded me of a baboon on heat; a not entirely inappropriate comparison.
That job done, it was just a case of bending under the navigation table to turn on the engine battery; an equally provocative action – maybe more so since two thirds of my body wasn’t covered by the companionway stairs as it is when I’ve got my head stuck in the engine compartment. What should be a simple action is complicated by a need to push the key in as you turn it in just the right way, which you never seem to get right the first time.
I was just about to extract my head when I felt Sam’s hands on my hips and almost immediately his shaft come up between my legs; the fairly rigid member slipping quickly into the camel toe in my pants and coming to rest against my already awoken clit. Then I felt his lips kissing the middle of my back.
If I was surprised, it was more that he’d had time to position himself so carefully in what is normally a fairly quick movement by me. On the last trip I’d set out to tease him with all of this; filling his balls with cum and body with testosterone in preparation what was to come later in the day. But that was to be our first time. Now we were both frustrated and randy lovers. There was no doubt that – whatever else it was about – today was about sex. Preferably plenty of it. Now or later or both mattered much less; although preferably both.
I carefully extracted my head from under the table, turning slightly to support my weight against the closed door to the bathroom. I looked down to see the tip of his shaft protruding from between my legs still covered in the material of his boardies.
“In a hurry are you?”
“Well it was a rather tempting perspective.”
“Really? I didn’t think you’d noticed.”
By now his hands had slid up my flanks and his fingers had curled around and found themselves inside the small triangles of my bikini top where they were teasing up my nipples into what felt like large volcanic cones. And I was rocking back and forwards on his cock. Very, very slightly; but it was enough to tell him that he was doing nothing wrong and get me quite aroused all at the same time.
With the blood rushing to my head because of my bent over position, my hands walked up the bathroom door until I achieved a somewhat more upright posture; my upper body angled at more like 45 degrees than the downward dog position I’d been in before.
That meant I could take one hand off the door and use my fingers to push his cock even more firmly against my clit as he too started now rocking back and forward, sliding it in and out between my legs.
His lips kissed up the length of my back until I could feel them find the lower tie of my bikini top and pull the knot before doing the same to the neck tie; letting the top fall off my body and onto the floor at my feet.
We were still getting our sexual routines together. I wasn’t entirely sure where this was heading. With him hitting all my erogenous zones at once I was getting really hot; maybe recklessly so and already moaning vocally enough to let him know it. Still, we’d talked enough to know we both had strict condom rules and there wasn’t one in reach.
One at a time, he took a hand off a nipple and used it to release each side tie of my bikini pants until it was merely draped across the shaft between my legs before he slid it out from between our bodies. Now it was just his pants that separated us.
He bent down to my ear.
“Do you want to move to a bed or do you want me to do you here?”
What he was doing was pretty good, even with his boardies still in place. I was in the moment and running hot. It may not have been fantasy sex, more in the category of a light touch quick and dirty fuck against a wall. But there was plenty of time for the fantasy stuff before the day was through. Through a moan, all I could get out was –
“Too late. Keep going.”
Progressively I’d been moving upright until I was almost vertical; the full length of his body pressed against mine which was now hard against the door. Now he was doing all the work; thrusting upwards, almost lifting me off the ground with every movement. I knew from when I put a hand around behind me to stroke him that his pants were half way down his bum crack as they tried to accommodate the massive erection curved around my crotch.
My fingers still held the tip of it hard kaçak iddaa against my clit. They were wet with the pre-cum oozing through his pants and the spray of my own body’s fluids. With no fly, there was no way to quickly get his cock out. But the material was thin, soft, sensuous and stretchy. I wasn’t sure what it was doing for him, but for me there was no need to.
The hand not holding his cock was now pressed as flat against the door as I was. I turned my head to the side to stop my nose being mushed against the timber, only to realise with some horror that I was looking out the open window straight across the empty marina berth next to us into the cockpit of a yacht with half a dozen people having a late breakfast. Momentarily I regretted that the opening up process I’d done as we came aboard might have been a bit too through. And then I just got off even more on the naughtiness of it.
People having breakfast or not, as my orgasm burst I couldn’t hold back a little squeal as my knees sank and I seemingly tried to arch my hips forward through the door itself with the ecstasy of it. It was like I was left suspended on Sam’s cock as a moment of weakness left me unable to support my own weight.
When I had the will power to communicate again I asked Sam –
“Will I go and get a condom so you can nail me to the door?”
“No, I think I’d prefer to pound you to jelly on the bunk.”
“Oh joy. And have me on your bread for lunch afterwards?”
“I’ll be having you afterwards. If you’re into kinky stuff with bread that’s OK by me.”
Even as we’d been speaking, I pulled him out from between my legs and was now walking backwards to the front cabin, dragging him with me by a hand wrapped firmly around his cock. As the back of my knees contacted the edge of the bunk, I sat on it, undid the drawstring and finally exposed Sam’s erection; letting his pants drop to the floor.
For whatever reason, he was circumcised. Bulging veins ran along the full length of his rampant manhood which looked all the larger for the lack of any foreskin. It anxiously surged and swelled every time I touched it, the bell at the top flaring as another flood of pre-cum emerged from the tip. It needed urgent relief; a relief only I could give it.
As I fumbled in my bag for a condom with one hand, I lifted it upright with the other, bent down and licked along its full length from the base to the tip. Then I rolled the condom on him before lying back and spreadeagling myself on the bed; a gift ready to be taken.
Sam came over the top of me. With his legs outside mine and his haunches drawn up under him to take the weight of his hips, he lay on top of me and kissed me as I slid a hand between our bodies to guide him into my womanhood. Pivoting on his haunches like he was, he could get really deep penetration; slipping in until he could go no further, then lying back down on me and just kissing for a little while. That’s what I liked about Sam. His clear need for relief didn’t stop him from making it something mutually pleasurable.
Still, as we kissed he started thrusting; slowly and gently at first. Then as he lifted himself up on his outstretched arms, more powerfully. Sam was only kidding when he said I’d be pounded to jelly, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t getting into it rather keenly. Noisily too. The effort was reflected in his grunting and made me think again of the people in the cockpit of their boat nearby.
With his weight supported by his haunches, I could tilt my hips to give me better contact; letting my vulva and the clit within it be mushed against his pelvis at the end of every deep thrust. I was just starting to get really warmed up again when Sam stopped, held for a moment, then thrust deeply into me and groaned loudly as he dumped his load before collapsing on top of me. Little after-shudders wracked his body as his orgasm continued; seemingly trying to wring every drop of cum from his balls.
As we kissed afterwards a combination of that awkward sensation that comes after sex and the heat of our bodies cooking each other on what was already a warm day finally overcame us. Sam had already pulled out of me and the full condom was resting on my stomach still attached to the end of his flaccid cock.
I was the one who broke the moment.
“Are you ready to go sailing?”
He didn’t so much answer me as give me a final kiss before climbing out of the bunk; offering me a hand to get upright myself. While Sam dealt with the thing swinging from the end of his manhood and put his pants back on, I collected the parts of my bikini and tied it all back together again.
We did some work getting the deck ready; taking off sail covers and that sort of thing before realising it was a hot sun and if we weren’t going to put some better covering clothes on then we’d better get a good lathering of sun screen. Now normally I wouldn’t go anywhere near a boat without a long sleeve top and at least kaçak bahis knee length pants. But with Sam things were a little different. Yes, I wanted to protect my skin. But I also wanted to show off my bikini bod and see as much as I could of his (no, not his bikini bod; just his bod!).
So we went back below to where dad kept several large bottles of the liquid stuff; taking our chance to wave off the group of people in the pen near us as they slipped their mooring and reversed out. As they waved to us as they left, I for one was well aware that Sam wasn’t the only one who’d been perving at my bikini bod; although I knew if I was going to run around the yacht club dressed like I was I could only expect every male eye within a hundred metres to be on me. That conclusion is a bit like saying one and one equals two.
Once below, I grabbed the sun screen and offered to do Sam’s back. It was going to take a couple of hours to get up to Quarantine Beach and the screening up was something that needed to be done properly. As we chatted away, I worked down his back as far as the waistband of his pants and then down his legs; slipping my hands teasingly up inside the legs of his boardies to make sure he didn’t get burnt if they rode up. Then I went back to make sure the area under the waistband was done properly. Most Aussie kids know the pain of a bright red band of burnt skin where your swimmers have slipped down a bit after you’ve put the sun screen on.
As I tried to work the waistband down a bit I found that it was tied as tight as a drum. So I slipped a hand around to the front of his pants and pulled the bow on the drawstring. Then from behind I pulled the waistband out; making it quite lose and easy for me to slip his pants down a few inches to cream him up there.
Sam interspersed a few teasing comments into our conversation as I invaded the area covered by his pants and pulled the drawstring, but apart from that, the flow of our conversation largely ignored my physical contact with him. For most Aussies, this process is something that partners take over from parents (maybe with a few years gap), so it’s a familiar routine.
As I’d finished on his back, I put a hand on each hip to turn him around and stood back up. Instead of letting him do his own front, I just started doing it for him, starting with his face. Standing in full frontal contact as I carefully applied the stuff to his face, my hips were thrust forward enough to be pressed firmly against his pants and their contents. Those contents quickly reacted; especially as even the movement involved in spreading the cream over his face produced a gentle interaction between the lower portions of our bodies.
Even though I had to open up a space between us so that I could work down his stomach, by the time I’d got as far as his lower stomach there was a one-eyed trouser snake peeking meaningfully out the top of the now loose and hanging down waistband of his pants. I nonchalantly gripped both the waistband and the tip of the erection in the fingers of one hand and pulled them out from his stomach to let me cream underneath.
As I smoothed the cream out across his stomach, the tip of his erection swelled to hardness under my fingers and I could feel a trail of dampness form under my thumb where it rested on the edge of his bell.
“Is it telling me it wants some more?”
“It’s been telling me it wants more ever since you pulled the drawstring on my pants.”
“So you let your cock do your thinking for you do you?”
“Don’t you girls assume it does all the thinking for us guys? Anyway, sometimes it comes up with some pretty good ideas.”
As I released my finger grip on his pants and erection, the latter sprung back against his stomach, while the former, now being entirely loose, dropped to the floor. I stood up and put my arms around Sam, kissing him as I pushed my body against him.
“Well, we’d better give it what it wants then hadn’t we?”
Without breaking our full body contact, without even stopping our passionate kissing, I backed towards the bunk in the forward cabin until once again I felt the edge of it behind my knees. Normally I prefer to be on top; it works better from me.
But there was something about Sam’s technique last time that had really started to get me going. I was willing to offer him the chance to give me another pounding – although that’s not really what it is – to see if we could bring it to a conclusion this time. So once again I sheathed him and lay back flat. Sam came over me; wasting no time in pulling the strings of my bikini to render me naked and chucking the pieces out onto the floor of the main cabin. Then he let me help guide him into me.
At this early stage of our relationship it was frankly just nice to get some sex and feel the heat of some full body contact. We both seemed more interested in just doing it conventionally rather than contorting ourselves into a thousand different positions. So Sam was just as willing to squat on his haunches again and after a period of kissing and playing, commence with a gentle slow thrusting; sometimes bending in to suck my nipple into his mouth and swirl it around with his tongue.
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